my fire never goes out (i rise from my scars)
by Black Angelis2
Summary: Cersei and Tyrion escape to Pentos after the destruction of King's Landing.
1. Chapter 1

**This story is the first part of a series taking place after season 8 in which Cersei, Jorah and Daenerys survive.**

**I hope you'll enjoy it!**

* * *

She's bleeding when he finds her.

She's shaking and there are tears and dust in her eyes (oh, but he's weeping too). She's alive and he doesn't know what to think of it.

There are ashes in his hair and then ashes in his heart when he sees Jaime's lifeless body. He stares at his eyes – dust, no tears, and no light.

He thinks about turning around – she's dead already. Daenerys will find her, will find them both and then-

(_Get her out of here. Get her out of here._)

Jaime's ghostly voice is begging him.

He looks her in the eye and he hesitates for an instant (and then purple replaces green and his whole heart starts trembling).

"Come on. Let's go."

It's easy, freeing her from her stone prison, so easy – so ironic. She looks up at him and it's like the light of the Seven rains down upon her.

"It's over," he promises.

(Actually, it is only the beginning.)

.

Moving some stones doesn't take him too much time, but it's been too long since he's been down here, way too long.

(Drogon. Daenerys.)

When they make it to the beach, and then the dinghy, he still can't breathe. She'll catch them, he knows she will, and she'll burn them.

They sail away from the smoking ruins of King's Landing. The smell of burning makes him feel dizzy.

(He used to love that smell. It was hope, freedom, victory, it was Daenerys's purple eyes and the fire running through her veins. How his heart aches.)

When there's only water around them, when they're too exhausted to row, when he collapses, half driven mad by thirst, that's when they come. The ghosts – the dead and the living alike.

Mother, singing a lullaby to him while Shae is stroking his hair, whispering about the beauty of the moon. Sansa and Arya, watching a pack of direwolves. Myrcella and Tommen, swimming in a sea of stars, laughing, as Varys warns Ned Stark against the wars to come. Grey Worm, pulling Missandei close. Jaime, who's holding Cersei in a loving embrace and cannot help kissing her, reminds him that Father, who will return soon, isn't to know about it.

He comes to believe that Tyrion Lannister died amongst the smoke and the flames.

He doesn't know who the one in that dinghy is now.

.

They're almost dead by the time the dinghy grounds on the shores of Essos. Perhaps they are. Tyrion collapses on the warm sand, his arms outspread, his throat burning. As he watches the bright sun in the blue sky, he thinks that it is a beautiful place to die.

It truly feels like a dream. He closes his eyes and he's back at Casterly Rock. He can hear Jaime's laugh, he can see the smile on his lips and the light in his green eyes.

(Dust. No tears.)

"Well, little brother, now isn't a good time to sleep."

The ghosts are all gone. Only his lingers.

(_Save her. Save her._)

_I'm sorry, Jaime. I tried._

Perhaps the Lannisters weren't meant to survive. The lions are about to roar for the last time – no one will mourn them. The dragon will come and eat whatever is left of them.

"Get up."

Cersei has grabbed his arm and shakes it, almost hurting him.

_Let me die_, he wants to say._ I tried. Let me die, let me follow the others._

(Jaime, laughing. Myrcella and Tommen, smiling. Mother, singing.).

_Let me die. I've seen too much fire._

"I said get up. I didn't run away from this Targaryen whore to die like this. The lion bows to no one. Get up."

Casterly Rock fades away and he finally sees her, really sees her. _Hear me roar_, she shouts in silence. Her face, the way she stands, her eyes, everything shouts and shouts and shouts –_ hear me roar_.

So he does as she says and painfully stands up. He thinks that he'll never make it, that he won't make three steps before collapsing again but this mantra he once hated so much shouts inside his head.

_Hear me roar. Hear me roar. Hear me roar._

.

They don't go far.

Tyrion wants to roar, he really does but he's just a voiceless cub, now. Cersei can't roar for them both – in the end, she's the one who collapses first. He falls right after her. The sun is going down in the sky as red as fire.

(Drogon.)

He hasn't even realized that he's fallen on top of her. His head is resting on her belly. Another cub who will never roar.

"I'm sorry," he whispers – to Cersei, to the child, to himself.

Other ghosts appear and set his heart ablaze.

(Father, holding a crossbow. Joffrey, with purple lips. Daenerys, with ashes in her silver hair and blood on her hands.)

They're here for him, he realizes. They want revenge. They'll drag him to the Seven Hells, he knows. Daenerys's smile is sad.

"I'm waiting for you," she says. "Come."

She's beautiful, despite the blood, despite the ashes, despite the fire and the corpses. She holds out her hand and he thinks that it's his fate. He never should have fled, he should have stayed by her side – where he belongs.

He closes his eyes and lets the dragon take him.

.

Tyrion is swimming in an endless ocean of smoke. There is no land to be seen, only darkness and ghosts. He can't see them but he can hear them.

_Come with us. Come with us._

Frightened, he swims away. The ghosts follow him, of course. Mother, Father, Sansa, Jon, Myrcella, Jorah, Tommen, Jaime. He can no longer tell apart the living and the dead.

When he sees a red light and comes near it, he runs into Daenerys and her purple eyes. She strokes his cheek.

(_Heaven_.)

"Tyrion," she sighs. "You failed me."

Her smile is cruel.

"_Dracarys_."

He swims away before he can see Drogon's shadow.

He's alone again. The dancing shadows will never give up. He drowns, but to no end.

"Tyrion."

He turns to face Jaime.

"Come with me."

"Where?"

"A better place."

Jaime takes him out of the ocean of smoke. The light he sees now is neither red nor burning. It's warm, it's comforting, it's life and peace and love.

Love.

(_Mother_, he thinks when he sees this woman with long blond hair.)

He runs into her open arms. A shadow appears behind them. He shivers, but he doesn't have to.

"My son," Tywin says, smiling.

From the corner of his eye, he can see Jaime holding Cersei's hand. Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen are smiling at the baby she's holding in her arms.

He's happy here, in his mother's loving embrace. There is no war, no fire, no ashes, no game of thrones. All these things are so meaningless. Oh, he wishes he could stay here forever.

Much to his despair, he understands that he won't be allowed to live in his dreamland forever. Gradually, the smoke comes back. He wants to scream when Joanna's gentle eyes fade away.

Darkness.

And then, light. Life.

He didn't expect it to hurt so bad.

.

Mother is gone when he opens his eyes. He blinks. He can't recognize the room. The sunlight is stroking is face through the purple curtains.

(Purple – fire, blood, death.)

"You're awake."

He rolls over. Cersei's cold eyes are staring at him. He shivers.

"You're alive."

It was a very stupid thing to say but it is all he can find.

(_I did it, Jaime. I saved her._)

She doesn't respond and just sits on the bed. He sits up painfully.

"Where are we?"

She looks away, as if she couldn't bear to look at him.

"Near Pentos."

So, they've made it. Tyrion can't take any joy from it. His head is spinning.

"A woman found us and brought us to her house."

That is all she says. He doesn't have the time to ask another question.

The world turns black once more.

.

(_Oh, little brother. I wish I were with you._)

(_You're my Hand. You were supposed to serve me, not betray me._)

(_Didn't I warn you, Tyrion, at Winterfell? I told you this would happen._)

.

Water.

Water flowing down his throat. He opens his eyes and goes on drinking. The kind eyes of a woman he doesn't know are staring at him.

She says a few words but he doesn't understand. It takes him a few seconds to figure out why.

(_Valyrian_.)

Oh, if he had known, he would have worked harder to learn.

Cersei is nowhere to be seen. His head falls back on the pillow.

"Erlyna Sorren."

He assumes she's just told him her name. He nods without answering. No one can know who he is.

(But it's not really a lie, is it? Tyrion Lannister is dead, he died in King's Landing, amongst the ashes and the flames.)

Cersei walks into the room and says a few words to Erlyna. He's puzzled.

"I didn't know you could speak some Valyrian," he says, rather stupidly.

She doesn't even bother glancing at him. Once Erlyna is out, she snaps:

"You know nothing about me."

.

He falls asleep again.

(Sleeping feels like being dead. Fire. The bells. Darkness.)

Daenerys is here.

"I will find you," she promises. "I will always find you."

He runs away. Wherever he goes, her voice keeps following him.

_Traitor._

_Coward._

_Monster._

He can't escape her. She appears right in front of him and her purple eyes stab him.

"Leave me alone."

She doesn't move.

(The dragon will not step back.)

"Leave me alone!"

He wakes up screaming. Cersei is lying beside him. They stare at each other silently for a long time.

(_She will strangle me in my sleep_, he thinks.)

It seems they have no choice but to share the same bed – Erlyna Sorren obviously doesn't live in a castle.

"What is going to happen to us?" she whispers.

Her voice is so weak, so feeble, so desperate that he thinks for an instant that he just made it up.

Cersei no longer roars – what he heard is nothing but a meowing.

(Fire is coming.)

"I don't know," he whispers back.

Later in the night, when there is no light and when the darkness is devouring them, he pretends not to hear her sob.

He really realizes what they are – two scared cubs with no power, no home, and no brother.

(_Come back, Jaime. Please come back to us._)


	2. Chapter 2

Fear.

Real fear.

Tyrion is used to being afraid. He thought he had been afraid his whole life, he thought he knew fear like an old friend.

He was so wrong.

(The battle of the Blackwater, the trial by combat, the army of the dead – it wasn't real fear. Real fear has Daenerys's purple eyes, the smell of burning and the sound of the bells.)

It's only been a week. Every minute, every second, it's there. It never leaves him. He still hasn't been out of the house.

(She will find him. Wherever he goes, she will find him, and she will make him pay.)

When Cersei looks at him, he sees the glint of his own terror in her eyes.

(And what does she see?)

They don't talk to each other. Real fear has no name. At night, they stare at the ceiling, unable to find sleep. When he closes his eyes, he sees nothing but death. Cersei's breathing is the only thing reminding him that he's still alive.

(Real fear had green eyes and long blond hair – it's so ironic.)

.

Tyrion doesn't like sleeping.

In his dreams, he remembers everything. The battle – no, the massacre – screams, blood, the bells, how he stood there doing nothing, how he stood there watching the flames burn the city to the ground, how he just stood there and did nothing but _watch_.

(_What are you doing? You're ruining everything! You're ruining everything..._)

The sound of his own screams awakes him.

(_You ruined absolutely everything._)

Cersei says nothing about this – how could she? She wakes up screaming too. Oh, he knows what she sees – the Red Keep crumbling, her crown being taken from her, Jaime...

(_Jaime. Dust, no tears, and no light._)

"Jaime," he whispers without realizing it.

He can see his ghost in the room.

"I'm right here," he whispers back. "Look for me."

.

(_Look for me. Look for me._)

.

Erlyna Sorren isn't a curious woman.

She doesn't ask questions – he would find himself at a loss for answers anyway. She doesn't ask who they really are, she doesn't ask why they look so afraid all the time, she doesn't ask why they wake up screaming every night.

"Why is she helping us?" he asks Cersei.

She shrugs.

"She's a widow. Her son is dead. I guess she feels lonely."

"Her son? How did it happen?"

"He died in Westeros. That's all I know."

He can see that his questions annoy her.

He's waiting for the day she will burst into flames and reproaches.

(He wishes it would never happen. He already sees too much fire in his nightmares.)

.

Jaime is everywhere.

(_Look for me._)

He can see him when he looks at the sun, the clouds, the shadows, the moon and the stars. Sometimes, Tyrion feels like he's right behind him.

When he turns around, his hand closes on emptiness.

He closes his eyes and imagines that Jaime is the one who escaped with Cersei, not him. Jaime would have known what to do, Jaime would have known what to tell her, Jaime would have known where to hide. Tyrion knows he shouldn't be here, with someone who hates him more than anything. Tyrion should be in King's Landing, at Daenerys's side – where he belongs.

(_Why did you leave, Jaime? Why did you leave me?_)

.

When the night comes, Jaime's ghost wanders about the room.

"I'm here," he whispers. "I'm right here."

.

Something is missing from her.

This is what Cersei is always thinking – every hour, every minute, every second.

Something is missing from her.

(_Nothing else matters._)

None of this can be real. It's a dream, an awful dream. Soon, she will open her eyes and will be back on the Iron Throne, her crown on her head, Jaime at her side. She can't be alive while Jaime is...

(_Don't let me die, Jaime. Not like this. Not like this..._)

At night, she hears his voice.

"I'm here. I'm right here..."

.

The days go by. She's waiting for the moment she will hear the dragon roar.

Tyrion is afraid of his own shadow. He's even afraid to look at her.

(She pretends not to share the same fear.)

"Daenerys," he whispers in his sleep. "Daenerys."

She hates him so much.

.

_Queen you shall be, until there comes another, younger and more beautiful, to cast you down and take all that you hold dear._

Daenerys – ashes in her hair, fire in her eyes, death on her lips.

Oh, she should have known.

She should have known, and killed her with her own hands.

.

"It's been two weeks."

Cersei gives him a cold glare.

"I know how to count."

Her hand is rubbing her belly. She's looking out of the window. Tyrion turns around and leaves the room.

He walked out of the house yesterday. It was hard, so hard to keep moving, so hard not to turn around at once. Every time he looks at the sun, he sees it all again.

(A blue sky, red flames, grey ashes.)

He comes near the sea. He's holding the Hand of the Queen's pin in his hand.

(He's been concealing it from Cersei – she could use it to stab him.)

When he glances at it, the smell of burning returns.

Tyrion stretches out his arm. He just needs to open his hand – it's easy, really. Water can extinguish fire and wash the blood away.

(_Do it. Do it._)

.

_I believe in you. You have my counsel... now and always._

_I have something for you... Tyrion Lannister, I name you Hand of the Queen._

.

(_You ruined everything. Why Why did you do that to me?_)

.

The smell of burning lingers.

At night, he presses the pin against his heart.

(It's already on fire anyway.)

.

Waiting is terrible.

How long? How long before Daenerys understands there is no need to keep looking for Cersei's body? How long before she understands that they ran away? How long before she sends someone to hunt them down?

What did she do with Jaime's body?

(Dust, so much dust.)

"It doesn't matter," Jaime whispers in his ear. "I'm beside you."

.

Cersei looks at Tyrion.

Does he really think she's blind?

He holds on to his pin like a treasure. When he looks away, she tries to burn it with her eyes – it's covered with Jaime's blood.

.

Real fear is like fire.

Wildfire, dragon fire. Green fire, red fire.

Green eyes, purple eyes. Blond hair, silver hair.

The mother of madness and the mother of dragons.

Cersei and Daenerys. Daenerys and Cersei.

He no longer knows where one ends and the other begins.

.

"Why did you leave?"

Cersei is sitting on the bed. Tyrion's eyes widen when he sees she's holding his pin.

"I was on the beach," he says.

(Pretending to be stupid should be easy enough. He's not even sure he has to pretend.)

"You know that this is not what I meant."

She looks down at the pin.

"Why didn't you stay with her?"

"Does it matter? I'm here now."

(Now and forever – a nightmare.)

"You left because she would have killed you."

"No."

He tries to deny it. Another failure. His voice betrays him along with the tears in his eyes.

"What did you do?"

.

_The next time you fail me will be the last time you fail me._

.

_I freed my brother_, he wants to say.

"I betrayed her," he answers.

.

He failed her. Again.

She will never forgive him.

(He will never forgive himself either.)

.

Cersei stands up and comes near him. She drops the pin on the floor. He doesn't pick it up. They both stare at it for a long time.

(It was a mistake, a mistake forever stained with blood.)

"Well, what are you waiting for? _Take it_."

There it is. Anger. He was waiting for it. He remains still.

"I should use it to slit your throat."

She walks toward the door. Her hand on the handle, she turns to him one last time before leaving.

.

Jaime's cold body against her warm body. Dust. Tears.

Fear.

Emptiness.

.

"Tyrion? It should have been you."

.

He doesn't see her for the rest of the day. The sun is going down when she returns. Tyrion watches her throwing pebbles into the sea, shouting her anger and her wrath out.

"No. No. NO!"

From the corner of his eye, he sees Jaime's ghost witnessing the whole thing, looking sad.

"We won't survive," Tyrion murmurs. "Not without you."

(Cersei is right. It should have been him.)

.

The next day, he finally goes to Pentos. Being surrounded by so many people feels strange, so strange.

(He's waiting for the dragon to come and roar, and then the corpses. Something familiar.)

Tyrion glances around. Has Daenerys already sent someone after him? He's feeling dizzy as his heart starts beating faster in his chest.

He understands why Cersei was so angry when he hears about the coronation of Daenerys Targaryen, the First of her name, Queen of the Andals and the First Men and Protector of the Seven Kingdoms.

(The blue sky is turning purple.)

.

(_I will find you. I will always find you._)

(_Come, come for me. I'm waiting for you._)


	3. Chapter 3

Guest: Thank you very much!

* * *

Tyrion dreams of Mother again.

He's in his room at Casterly Rock. He's just had a nightmare and he's crying. She's comforting him.

It's dark. He can barely see her long golden hair and her bright green eyes.

(Her face... why does it look so familiar?)

"Mother," he says. "I'm scared."

"Oh, my little Tyrion. My little lion. It's all right."

She holds him tight – it feels so good to be here.

He closes his eyes.

.

(Her face – unknown and so familiar.)

.

"What did Mother look like?"

Cersei turns to him – there is fire in her eyes.

(Dragon fire. Wildfire.)

"What?"

"What did Mother look like?"

He never knew. Father never said anything about her. Joanna Lannister is a shadow, a dream, something lost forever.

"Don't talk about Mother!"

She's furious now – a firestorm.

(Wildfire. Dragon fire.)

"You killed her. Don't talk about her. You killed her."

"I never wanted to. I was... I was a baby. It wasn't my fault."

"It doesn't matter. Perhaps you didn't want to but you _killed_ her all the same."

.

(The fire in King's Landing – it wasn't his fault. It's not what he wanted, not at all.)

.

"I saw her... I saw her in a dream," he insists.

Cersei shakes her head angrily.

"You killed her," she repeats. "You took her from me."

"That's not true."

She looks away.

"Get out."

(Fire, too much fire.)

"That's not true," he says again before leaving.

.

Daenerys comes out of fire and holds out her hand.

"Come."

"I can't. I'm not a Targaryen."

She laughs.

"You'll be safe with me."

"I won't be safe. I'll burn."

She looks sad.

"Don't you want to be with me?"

"Of course I do. More than anything."

She kneels.

"Then come with me."

It's a mistake, he knows, a mistake he's happy to make.

She smiles as he reaches forward.

.

(_Was it a nightmare or a dream? He cannot tell._)

.

Cersei is angry.

(So is Tyrion.)

They're too angry, too exhausted, too scared. Of course it was meant to happen. Hatred didn't burn down along with hope in King's Landing.

"It's your fault," she says.

She doesn't scream but her voice is a deafening echo.

(A blue sky, a few clouds.)

"It's not," Tyrion says.

"You were her advisor. You served her."

(Two armies.)

"You brought her to Westeros."

He doesn't want to hear it, he wants to run away, he doesn't want to undergo this again.

"You brought her to King's Landing. My home."

(A dragon. A broken queen.)

"That's enough," he warns.

So much anger. Why won't she just shut up?

"You let her destroy everything."

(Bells.)

"No," he says.

It's not his fault, he's not a Targaryen, he's not a dragon, he doesn't breathe fire.

"She burned down my city along with my life because of you."

(A massacre.)

.

(_Oh, Tyrion, won't you burn with me?_)

.

"Enough," he breaks down, clutching his face. "_You_ did this."

"I-"

"You're a liar!" he snaps. "It's not my fault. It's yours. You refused to surrender. You didn't listen. You used your own people as a shield. You made her do it... I begged you. You could have avoided this. She had lost everything. I begged you! You were so selfish! It's all on you!"

He steps forward, she steps back, he freezes, she shivers. Why is there a glint of fear in her eyes? Why?

"It wasn't me," he says one last time.

.

Cersei is his sister. She should have listened when he begged her. They're family, they share that same cursed name – Lannister. Cersei is his sister, and she should have listened to him.

.

(Everything is burning to the ground and he doesn't move. He doesn't have the blood of the dragon, it's not his doing, so why does he feel so guilty?)

.

The night comes. They stare at the ceiling.

"She took my home from me," Cersei whispers and anger still poisons her voice.

(_Because of you_, she doesn't say, but Tyrion hears it all the same.)

"What is a home?" he asks.

She's taken aback by his words.

"What does it matter? Mine is gone."

.

He thinks Cersei is asleep – her eyes are closed. It would be so easy. He would only need to wrap his hands about her throat and squeeze, and it would all be over.

He brushes her skin with his fingers.

(Cersei and Daenerys. Daenerys and Cersei.)

.

_Queen you shall be, until there comes another, younger and more beautiful, to cast you down and take all that you hold dear._

She sees flames, ashes, rubble, dust, she hears the bells, her own screams, her sobs when she looks at Jaime's lifeless body.

_You'll have three children. Gold will be their crowns, gold their shrouds._

She sees three corpses, now. Her beautiful children, the ones she loved more than anything – dead.

There's something else. Blood is running down her legs. She doesn't know where the pain comes from – her belly, or her heart.

_And when your tears-_

"No," she screams. "No!"

She opens her eyes. She thinks Tyrion is asleep – his eyes are closed. It would be so easy. He wouldn't have a chance to defend himself.

She brushes his skin with her fingers.

(Dust. Tears. Fear. Emptiness.)

.

(_Nightshade_, they both think. It doesn't have to be violent. Ten drops of essence of nightshade, and it would all be over.)

.

Every day, she sits on the beach and looks at the horizon like she's longing for a lost love.

"Are you even pregnant?" he asks. "Or was it another lie?"

.

(Blood, blood running down her legs.)

"I'm pregnant," she answers, suddenly feeling very tired.

(_For now._)

.

"Why do you always look so sad?" he says.

(She can't be sad, she can't. She's a liar, a despicable liar. She betrayed him, she betrayed Daenerys, everything burned down because of her.)

"It's all on you. You brought this upon yourself."

He wants her to start screaming, he wants them to have a fight, there's too much anger growing inside of him, way too much.

"Why did you betray her?"

.

_Queen you shall be, until there comes another, younger and more beautiful, to cast you down and take all that you hold dear._

She feels like laughing. Tyrion is a fool, he knows nothing, nothing at all.

"Why did you save me?" she asks.

He hesitates.

"For Jaime. Only for Jaime."

(_I hate you_, he seems to say.)

.

If it weren't for Cersei, Daenerys wouldn't have burned everything, she wouldn't have ruined everything, and he would be at her side now.

_I hate you_, he wants to say.

.

Erlyna Sorren doesn't speak much, and when she does, her voice is always burdened with sadness.

"It's starting to show," she tells Cersei, glancing at her belly.

Valyrian always sounds strange. She'll never get used to it. Whenever she opens her mouth, it's like someone else is talking.

Cersei puts a hand on her belly.

_Three children. Three children._

Water gathers in her eyes.

"It must be hard for you to be far from home," Erlyna says.

She looks up at her tired face.

(A reflection of her own face?)

She doesn't respond.

(_What is a home? _)

"Your brother. He has that look..."

"What look?"

"The look of someone who is heartbroken."

Tyrion is not here. His pin is on the table. Cersei looks away from it. She doesn't want to understand.

"You have that look too."

(_Jaime_.)

When will she stop seeing dust, flames, the dragon? When will she stop hearing the bells? When will she stop waking up screaming?

"Erlyna," she says suddenly. "You're a healer. Do you have essence of nightshade?"

.

Three drops.

A dreamless sleep – she's so tired. Erlyna warned her that it's dangerous, that it mustn't become an habit, but it's such a relief. A night with no ashes, no bells, no bloody prophecy.

She shows the vial to Tyrion. There's an odd glint in his eyes, something that is not anger. Those things she sees when she sleeps, he sees them too, those terrible things haunting them night after night.

(And it's way stronger than hatred.)

"Just one drop," Tyrion says.

"It won't be enough," she warns. "Not enough not to dream."

"Just one drop," he says again.

Weary, she shrugs. When she lies down, she wishes nightshade wouldn't take away sweet dreams and nightmares alike – how she'd like to see Jaime again.

.

"A home is a place where you feel safe," Cersei says.

"Is it?" Tyrion responds.

"The Red Keep was safe."

"Until it crumbled around you."

_A place where you feel safe._

She doesn't respond - she's fallen asleep.

"I've never had a home, then," he whispers.

.

"If I kiss you, you won't burn. What do you say?"

Tyrion nods. Joy overwhelms his heart. Daenerys's lips taste like ashes.

.

He wakes up short of breath. He shouldn't want to dream of her, of her hair, her eyes, of kissing her lips, he shouldn't, she's a madwoman, she ruined and burned everything.

"I don't love her," he murmurs.

_I don't love her. I don't love her. I don't love her._

It's a haunting mantra.

.

"It's all right, little brother," Jaime whispers in his ear. "I've loved a murderer too."


	4. Chapter 4

Guest: Thank you so much!

* * *

There are red and yellow roses in Erlyna Sorren's garden. They're pretty flowers, Tyrion likes looking at them, it reminds him of the gardens of the Red Keep.

(There are no roses any more, just ashes.)

Cersei hates them.

Every time she passes by, she gives them a murderous look as if she wanted to uproot them and burn them to ashes.

"They're just flowers," he tells her one day.

He knows he shouldn't have.

He grabs his pin and stares at it for a long time.

What a hypocrite he is.

.

"Tell me about your son."

Cersei gently caresses her growing belly. Her child. Jaime's child.

(_You will have three children._)

She closes her eyes and clenches her fists.

"He was gentle," Erlyna says, sighing. "And so brave. There was a spark in his eyes... it was the spark of life."

Her smile fades.

"And then one day, his father died. It was a strange disease, long and painful... for ten years it took away all his strength. And then one day, he didn't open his eyes. My son never recovered from his broken heart. The girl he loved married another... he left for Westeros, never to return."

Erlyna is not crying - maybe she has already shed all her tears.

"Did you have other children?"

Cersei nods.

"Three."

(_Gold shall be their crowns and gold their shrouds._)

"They're dead."

She won't cry.

Later, she picks a rose and tears its petals.

.

Tyrion's heart twists in his chest when he hears the Common Tongue in the streets of Pentos.

(Why does he look for purple eyes in the crowd?)

It doesn't take him long to figure out what it's all about. When he hears what these people say, the smell of burning returns.

_Queen. Dragon. Unsullied. Fear._

_Exile._

His heart beats fast, too fast. Someone will recognize him. It will happen. She'll find him, it's only a matter of time.

He's wondering what she looks like now. What's in her purple eyes?

(There are the things he loved so much, of course - freedom, hope, courage, justice).

Why is he lying to himself? He clenches his fists and squeezes his pin in his hand.

_I don't lover her. I don't love her._

.

(There are other things now - fire, madness, ashes, death.)

.

"Daenerys has commanded the Unsullied to pacify the Seven Kingdoms."

Cersei doesn't say anything. She doesn't even bother looking up.

"People get scared. They flee to Essos."

(_Just like us_.)

"Were you recognized?" she asks sharply.

"I don't think so."

She nods, her eyes still turned to the ground.

"Let her enjoy her crown while she can."

"What do you mean?"

She rises to her feet and looks down at him. He will not look away. He's not afraid of her. Not any more.

(He's afraid of someone else.)

"You don't seriously think I'm going to spend the rest of my days here? Away from my kingdom, away from my throne?"

"It's not yours any more," he answers. "You've lost."

"I never lose."

He's flabbergasted.

"Are you seriously planning to go back?"

"I'm going to take back what's mine."

He shakes his head, suddenly very angry.

"You're mad. You've lost, Cersei. You've lost."

She glares at him coldly and doesn't say a word.

In the evening, he hears her humming _The Rains of Castamere_, her hands resting on her belly.

.

She must get her throne back.

She cannot stay here. Lions aren't meant to live in exile. She doesn't know how she's going to do it but she'll get her throne back. She imagines that Targaryen whore sitting on it and wants to scream out all her rage.

Her son will be king one day. He'll be safe, the power will protect him.

She won't fail a fourth time.

The lion bows to no one.

.

He dreams of an old conversation he had with Daenerys.

He's looking at his new pin. He's proud, so proud, prouder than he's ever been. He looks up at his new queen and he knows that she can read his gratitude in his eyes.

"Thank you," he whispers. "Thank you so much."

She smiles at him and his heart twists again.

"I won't let you down," he promises.

He feels like he's never been happier. Whenever he closes his eyes, he sees Daenerys on the Iron Throne, a crown on her head. The beginning of a new era, freedom, hope.

"I wish I had a brother like you," Daenerys smiles.

He should be flattered, he really should be, so why do her words feel like a stab?

"A brother," he repeats.

He makes himself smile.

"That would be great."

(After all, it never bothered Cersei and Jaime.)

.

"I don't love her. I don't love her," he whispers again.

Jaime sighs sadly.

"Don't you?"

"She's a monster. I don't love her."

.

"_A lion, still has claws, and mine are long and sharp my lord, as long and sharp as yours..."_

Tyrion would give anything to silence Cersei. She hopes for a son, he knows. A lion cub who will rise the Lannister dynasty from the ashes. It's unbearable. He wishes he could make her see the truth, make her see that there's no hope, make her keep her mouth shut. At night, he hears her talking about conquest and revenge in her sleep.

"Won't you shut up?" he finally snaps.

She casts a scornful glance at him.

"My child will be king. I will have the Red Keep rebuilt. There won't be ashes any more. They will be forgotten."

"Daenerys is the Queen and there's nothing you can do about it."

"I'll get Casterly Rock back. I will submit the Seven Kingdoms. My child won't need to be afraid. He will be safe," Cersei continues without listening to him.

It's a dialogue of the deaf.

"If she finds out we're still alive, she'll kill us. We can never go back to Westeros."

"The Iron Throne is mine. It belongs to the Lannisters, to my child. I will slit that whore's throat myself. I'll bring her the fire and blood she loves so dearly-"

"Don't call her a whore," he says.

He shouldn't have said that, he knows he shouldn't have.

(A spark of understanding appears in Cersei's eyes. They've never looked so much like Jaime's.)

They don't speak for several seconds.

"You love her," Cersei says, and that's not a question.

"No," Tyrion responds. "I don't."

"You love her," she repeats, cringing.

"I don't love her."

(_Liar. Liar._)

"You gave up on your own family for that whore."

"Stop calling her that!"

He betrayed himself, in his eyes and Cersei's alike. Realization strikes him.

(_I love her._)

"What you said about making the world a better place... you already loved her, didn't you?"

"Enough."

He doesn't want to hear it. The truth is ugly, disgusting, repulsive. He wishes the lies hadn't shattered to pieces.

"I hope you're satisfied... a better place? All I can see is fire and blood. Even I-"

"Don't compare yourself to her! She's not like you. You're much worse than she is."

"Really?"

"You blew up the Sept of Baelor. The Tyrells... all those innocent people..."

She laughs bitterly.

"They deserved what happened to them."

How can he still be shocked?

"I was wrong. You're a monster. A murderer."

Cersei looks at him with pity.

"I am a survivor."

"It's different."

"Absolutely not. You sound just like Ned Stark when he talked of honor and justice. And where is he now?"

He finds himself at a loss for any reply.

"We're all monsters, Tyrion. Your precious queen is no different."

.

_You're a monster._

It was strange to hear him say it. She shouldn't care. She doesn't regret what she did. Regretting is useless. Regretting would make her weak.

(_I know you're not a monster._)

She refused to listen the first time. She shouldn't listen this time either.

_You are a monster._

Those words haunt her. She's looking for Jaime's ghost.

"Am I a monster? "she whispers.

(The trial. The Sept of Baelor. The lie. It was necessary, wasn't it? She had to do it. And she would do it again without hesitation.)

"Am I a monster?"

(All these people were his enemies. They deserved to die. She had to defend herself. She had to survive. She would kill them a second time if she had to).

"Am I a monster?"

(Monster, survivor. Survivor, monster - it's all the same. It's all the same, isn't it?)

"Jaime, am I really a monster?"

No one answers her.

If she's a monster, then Tyrion is a monster too. He killed Mother, he killed Father. She feels like strangling him again.

"You're the monster," she tells him.

"What?"

"You killed Myrcella and Tommen."

He shakes his head.

"We've been over this before. I didn't-"

"They were your blood... your family... you killed your own blood for that whore."

"I didn't kill them. You did."

"I-"

"Their deaths are on you. Do you know what they were? Collateral damage. Collateral damage in your quest for power."

"_You're lying_. I-"

"Deep inside, you know I'm right."

.

Cersei is still looking for Jaime's ghost. She needs her other half. He haunts her thoughts. She wishes he were here. He's the only one who ever understood her and never judged her.

"Where are you, Jaime? I need you. I miss you so much."

He visits her in her dream, but he's not alone. Myrcella and Tommen are with him.

"Who killed us, Mother?" Myrcella asks.

"Tyrion," she answers.

Jaime sighs. The children insist.

"Who killed us, Mother? Who killed us?"

"Tyrion."

"_Shame. Shame. Shame"_

"Enough... please, enough..."

"_And when your tears have drowned you-"_

"No!"

She's shaking when she opens her eyes. Tyrion gives her an odd look.

"Sansa Stark is not a monster. And she's a survivor."

Tyrion is so naive. It's almost funny.

"Is that so?"

"Sansa is not a monster. She's just a survivor."

"I'm sure the Bolton boy would agree with you."

"What?"

"You've never heard the rumors about him?"

He suddenly seems very queasy.

"And where is he now?"

"It's different."

(_Am I a monster?_)

"No, it's not."

(_I am a survivor. Tyrion can say whatever he wants, all the survivors have blood on their hands._)

"We're all monsters, Tyrion. Murderers. And we're alive."

She's alive, and she'll get her throne back.

She will kill this younger and more beautiful queen.

.

He doesn't see Daenerys in his dream this time.

"I don't want to be a monster," Tyrion says to Jaime. "I want to be a good man."

"The Lannisters are not good people."

"I wanted to stop being a Lannister," he confesses. "I wanted to be a Targaryen. I wanted to be a Targaryen because I loved her."

"The Targaryens aren't good people either."

(Cersei and Daenerys. Daenerys and Cersei. So different and yet so alike.)

Wildfire and dragon fire - fire is fire.

"No," he admits. " Maybe Cersei is right. Maybe all the survivors are monsters."


	5. Chapter 5

Her name is Lya.

She works at one of the inns in the city where Tyrion goes whenever he wants to drown his sorrow. She has honey-colored curls and big blue eyes that look at him with amusement.

It is no longer just for drinking that he comes to this inn, and Lya notices.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

He likes hearing her speak the common tongue with her singing accent, he likes seeing her cheeks turn red.

"I think you're very beautiful."

She laughs.

"Liar."

.

In his dreams, everything is mixed up. Daenerys sings him a song while Mother flies on Drogon's back.

"Mother!" he shouts.

She flies away without looking back - he didn't see her face.

"Mother!"

"It's all right, Tyrion," Daenerys whispers, kissing his forehead.

"Mother..."

"She'll never come back."

His blood freezes in his veins when she adds:

"But I will."

He wakes up before he has the time to be afraid.

.

"What did Mother look like?" Tyrion asks.

Cersei is sitting on the beach. He knows exactly what she's thinking about - her throne.

She barely glances at him.

"Why do you ask? You killed her."

"I want..."

"You don't deserve to know," she snaps.

Tears stream from the corner of his eyes. He turns away. She won't see him cry. He's angry at himself. Why do her words always hurt him? Why, after so many years of scorn?

(Oh, but he knows. He knows, but he won't admit it.)

Sometimes he finds himself thinking that everything could be different, that it would be possible to forget the fire, the ashes, the game of thrones. In his wildest dreams, he imagines that Cersei stops hating him. He imagines a peaceful life.

The dream turns into a nightmare every time.

Fortunately, Jaime's ghost doesn't leave him.

(_It's going to be all right, little brother. Everything going to be all right._)

.

Lya smiles at him as soon as he walks into the inn. He even manages to convince her to sit with him for a while.

"How do you know the common tongue?"

"My mother was from Westeros. She taught me."

She's young, much younger than he is.

(As young and beautiful as Daenerys - the thought makes him shudder.)

Her blue eyes remind him of Sansa's in King's Landing all those years ago.

(They're different now. She has the eyes of a survivor.)

"Are you close to her?"

(The eyes of a survivor, not the eyes of a monster... right?)

"We were. She passed away a few years ago. I live with my father and my little brother."

He nods and gives her a kind smile.

.

He keeps asking her questions. He feels that her words are an open door to a new world, a more beautiful, more colourful, more peaceful one.

Lya loves singing and dancing, she loves lemons and sunsets, she loves listening to the sound of the waves and looking at the stars.

Tyrion loves hearing her beautiful voice.

"It's not fair," she says one day. "I've told you all about me but I still don't know anything about you. Not even your name."

He looks around. The fear of being recognized overwhelms him again. He can't tell her his name. Tyrion Lannister is dead. Tyrion Lannister is a memory, an echo, a remnant of the past.

"I have a sister," he replies.

"That's wonderful."

(He wishes it were, he really does.)

"She hates me."

Lya's eyes are wide open.

"Why? I could never hate my brother. I love him more than anything."

Jealousy pierces his heart.

"My mother died giving birth to me. She never forgave me."

(I killed Father. I laid her bare for the vultures, and the vultures came. I brought the Dragon Queen to Westeros.)

"But it wasn't your fault! You're innocent."

He smiled sadly at her. She's so naive, so innocent.

The truth would break her.

(As it breaks him every day.)

.

Erlyna refuses to give her any more essence of nightshade.

"It's dangerous," she repeats. "For you and for the baby."

Cersei won't beg, even though her whole being trembles at the thought of another night filled with nightmares.

"If you told me who you really are, perhaps I could help you."

"I can't. It's too dangerous."

Erlyna doesn't insist.

Tyrion seems happier. It's driving her mad. He has no right to be happy, not when she's lost everything because of him. She's so lonely. She wants Jaime back. She wants them to raise their child together, she wants her throne back and to make him her king.

Wherever she goes, she looks for his ghost - maybe she's going mad, like that Targaryen whore.

During the day, he rarely shows up, but at night...

At night, ghosts dance around her. She can no longer tell dreams and reality apart. At night the bells ring, everything is on fire, everything collapses around her.

She is alone and he just looks at her sadly.

"I can't save you," he seems to say. "I'm sorry."

Myrcella and Tommen return.

"Who killed us, Mother? Who did?"

"Tyrion," she replies every time.

They run away when they see Daenerys on the back of her dragon. The younger and more beautiful queen. She looks at her and says:

"And when your tears have drowned you, the valonqar shall wrap his hands..."

This part is the worst.

(She never hears the end - she always wakes up before.)

She barely dares to look at Tyrion.

(He will kill her, she knows he will. The valonqar will be the end of her.)

She should kill him first.

.

Lya dreams of seeing the world.

One night, he meets her on the beach. She looks at the horizon, a smile on her lips.

"What is it like out there?"

So he tells her about the Wall and the snow in the North, the mountains of the Vale and the gardens of the Reach.

(He will not speak of the ashes and the flames - never.)

"It seems so beautiful," she whispers, dreamy.

"It's not so beautiful," he replies. "Ugliness is everywhere in this world."

But she bursts out laughing - it's a beautiful sound, a sound he thought he'd never hear again.

"Some choose to see only the ugliness of this world. I choose to see the beauty."

She picks up a shell and gives it to him.

When she kisses him on the forehead, he feels like his heart explodes.

.

He still sleeps with his pin pressed against her heart.

The shell remains on the floor.

.

Cersei stares at her belly. She fears the day she will see the blood-stained sheets when she wakes up.

(Because it will happen. You can't escape prophecies.)

"I'm sorry," she whispers.

(You can't escape prophecies, and yet she tried. There's nothing she can do.)

When she can't sleep, she stares at the ceiling and imagines how she could kill Daenerys. She's sure that even the Unburnt couldn't withstand wildfire.

(She took care of another younger and more beautiful queen. She can do it again.)

Her child. Her throne.

That's all she lives for.

.

"Where are you going?" Cersei asks.

Even though she doesn't seem hostile, he replies curtly:

"That's none of your business."

"Yes, it is."

He stands in front of her. She's sitting - their noses almost touch each other. Tyrion is running out of patience. He's tired, tired of all the anger, all the reproaches.

"You say I took everything from you, but the truth is that you took everything from me. I was Daenerys's Hand. I should have stayed with her... I left to save your life. _I saved your life_."

"I didn't ask you anything," she replies coldly.

(Cold, always so cold.)

"I could abandon you here," he spits.

(Such ingratitude. Why did he think everything could be different? He was a fool.)

"I don't need you," he says slowly.

(She's the one who needs him, it's never been the other way around and it will never be, right?)

"There's this girl... I like her and she likes me. I could run away with her and you'd never find us. We'd love each other and we'd be so happy and you'd be alone forever."

(She should be shouting at him now, so why does she give him that angry and sorrowful look?)

"You're an idiot. It would never work. Don't you see?"

And suddenly he's so scared, feeling her words will be the end of him - the end of them.

"Only a Lannister can love a Lannister."

He backs away like she's just slapped him.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

_Only a Lannister can love a Lannister._

"This girl. She could never love you or understand you. And if she tries, she'll die."

He feels like he's back at Winterfell during the Long Night. He's cold, so cold. Cersei's words haunt him.

"I don't believe you."

He runs out of the room.

.

He finds Lya and grabs her hands.

"Let's go," he says.

"What?"

"Let's run away from here. We'll see the world together. We'll watch the sunsets and count the stars at night. I'll listen to you sing to the sound of the waves. We could be happy, I know we could. We could love each other."

(_Only a Lannister can love a Lannister._)

Lya shakes her head and laughs.

"Silly little man. I can't leave. I can't leave my father and my little brother."

"But..."

"We don't have to leave. We can be happy here."

Her lips are soft when she kisses him.

(_Only a Lannister can love a Lannister._)

.

Cersei is a liar. These words mean nothing, nothing at all.

(He ignores the ghosts of Tysha, Shae, Sansa and Daenerys.)

.

"Why did you lie?"

"What?"

"Why did you lie when I asked for your help?"

He can't stop the stream of words pouring out of his mouth.

"Why didn't you listen when I begged you? You could have surrendered. There wouldn't have been any ashes... you took everything from her. You made her burn it all."

She studies his face in silence.

"You feel guilty."

"What?"

"It's not me you're mad at. It's yourself."

"I don't..."

"You feel guilty because you loved her, don't you? You think you could have prevented this."

Jaime said something odd to him once, something he didn't understand.

_Lannisters don't need words to understand each other, Tyrion._

Well, he understands now, as Cersei reads him like an open book.

"It was doomed to fail," Cersei says. "I told you. Only a Lannister can love a Lannister. »

"It's not true," he replies weakly.

(He won't kill Lya. He can't. Cersei is lying, she's always lying.)

"Why did you save me?" she asks for the second time.

Tyrion stares at her belly.

"For the child."

Every trace of anger leaves her face. Only weariness remains. She sighs.

"What do you want from me?"

"I don't want anything from you."

Her voice breaks a little when she responds:

"Everybody wants something. Robert, Father, the High Sparrow, Euron Greyjoy... even Jaime. Everybody wants something."

"I don't want anything from you," he repeats. "And I won't kill Lya."

His lips twist.

"You can try. You can try..."

.

_Only a Lannister can love a Lannister._

Even if that were true, he's not really a Lannister any more, is he?


	6. Chapter 6

Lya teaches him Valyrian.

These moments he spends with her taste like heaven. When he looks into her eyes, all he can see is the sky.

(Her eyes are not purple - he sees neither ashes nor flames).

"You are so patient with me," he says to her one day.

She blushes.

"I'm happy to help you."

He's making prorgress. He likes seing Cersei's annoyed face whenever he talks to Erlyna Sorren. It amuses him.

Her silent warning doesn't amuse him so much.

(_Only a Lannister can love a Lannister._)

.

(Tysha, Sansa, Shae, Daenerys - it means nothing. It doesn't mean anything at all.)

.

She gave in yesterday. She begged Erlyna to give her some essence of nightshade. She was tired, so tired.

So Erlyna put one hand on her cheek and smiled sadly.

"You remind me of my son. He too had terrible nightmares."

"Please."

Erlyna gave her the vial with a sigh.

Three drops. Three drops for a dreamless sleep.

It wasn't enough this time. The ghosts came.

Daenerys, first.

"_Queen you shall be, until there comes another, younger and more beautiful to cast you down and take all that you hold dear._"

Around her, the Red Keep was collapsing. There was no way out this time. Jaime wouldn't save her.

Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen came next.

"_You will have three children. Gold will be their crowns. Gold, their shrouds._"

Blood was running down her legs.

(_Who killed us, Mother?_)

She called Jaime, begged him to come and save her.

Jaime didn't come. Tyrion did.

"_And when your tears have drowned you, the valonqar shall wrap his hands about your pale white throat..._"

She woke up sweating, but the nightmare didn't stop there.

Every night she sleeps next to her valonqar.

One day the prophecy will come true, she knows it will.

.

(She almost wishes it would come true sooner so that this never-ending terror could finally end.)

.

He dreams of another old conversation. There are no ashes in Daenerys's purple eyes, not yet.

"To love someone is to feel like you're flying," he says. "It's like swimming on the bottom of the ocean and touching the stars. It has the smell of hope and the taste of freedom. To love is to believe that anything is possible."

His heart pounds in his chest when Daenerys smiles dreamily at him.

_Ask me anything, I'll do it. Anything, anything for you, my queen._

"Oh, Tyrion, you're so poetic when you talk about love!"

.

"Meet me tomorrow," Lya says to him, her eyes shining. "I want to show you something."

"Really?"

"Yes. It's not in Pentos, we'll go riding."

"And where is that?"

She bursts out laughing and steals a kiss from him.

"It's a surprise."

He could love her, he knows he could. She's so beautiful, so sweet, so kind. He admires her passion, her optimism. He could love her, he really could.

(_You're so poetic when you talk about love._)

"I'm looking forward to it," he says.

.

He doesn't need to worry. She won't break his heart into a thousand pieces, she won't tell him about a kingdom to conquer and a war to come, she won't look at the smoking ruins of a city with two purple eyes that still haunt him.

.

"You betrayed me."

The purple fire is back.

"I don't-"

"How can you do this to me? I gave you everything. You were alone, you had no one and I gave you everything, and now you're replacing me?"

"Don't listen to her," Jaime tells him. "She's not a Lannister. She can't understand."

"You're a traitor," Daenerys spits.

"I never meant to betray you."

"Really? You freed your brother. You saved your sister. You chose them over me."

"Don't listen to her," Jaime says again. "She doesn't understand anything. Only a Lannister can love a Lannister."

"You said you loved me, but now you're ready to run away with this girl..."

She kisses him furiously. He lets her, of course he lets her.

_I'll do anything for you, anything._

Jaime talks to him but he can't hear him any more. Nothing else matters but Daenerys's lips.

"We're monsters. We're meant to be together."

Monster.

He pulls away from her.

"I'm not a monster."

She bursts out laughing, a mad, cruel laugh.

"You're a monster. You will be the end of this girl."

.

(Monster, survivor, survivor, monster, survivor, monster, survivor - he doesn't know any more.)

.

"So you didn't stop meeting with that foreign whore."

Cersei has dark circles under her eyes. She looks like she's about to explode with rage.

He won't be intimidated.

"It's none of your business."

"I warned you. Only-"

"Enough!"

He feels the need to hurt her, to give her back the pain she has been causing him for all these years. It's unfair, it's so unfair, he saved her life and he gets nothing but contempt in return, it's too much, it's too much, the nightmares, the ashes, the hatred, it's all her fault, she has to pay.

(It wasn't his fault, he never wanted this, never.)

"You're not the only one Jaime loved."

He doesn't miss the sparkle of surprise in her eyes.

"What are you talking about?"

(Yes, he's got her.)

"Jaime had forgotten you," he says.

(Oh, how he wanted to tell her. Something had always stopped him, but it's over now. She doesn't deserve sweet lies).

"Jaime had _replaced_ you."

"You're lying."

But she's starting to doubt, he can see it - it's thrilling.

"He was happy with Brienne of Tarth."

"No."

Her response is automatic. It's like something impossible, something unthinkable. Cersei and Jaime, Jaime and Cersei. One being, one soul, one heart. Until Jaime finally decided otherwise.

She never believed he'd be able to do it. She always underestimated him. She always underestimated both of them.

"She was the woman he deserved... someone who was nothing like you."

"I don't believe you!"

He knows that this thought is unbearable to her - that's what makes it so enjoyable to him. It was strange seeing Jaime with someone else. He thought that it was a good thing, that Jaime had finally freed himself from their sister's destructive grip.

(Oh, if he had known...)

There's a glint of pain and fury in Cersei's eyes, but it's not enough. He's furious now. He hasn't hurt her enough. There's something else, something terrible. He barely hesitates.

"Your walk of atonement," he begins, and he's aiming right, horror replaces anger in her green eyes.

(_Not Jaime's eyes. Not Jaime's eyes._)

"I was with Daenerys when I heard about it."

"You-"

"I heard the whole story, and you know what I did?"

She knows, he knows she knows, he doesn't have to say it - he says it anyway.

"I _laughed_."

Daenerys had not smiled, but he had burst out laughing as if he had just heard the best joke in the world.

"You deserved everything that happened to you, everything."

(He's gone too far, he knows that. Cersei Lannister isn't one to let herself be insulted without reacting).

She starts talking to him again about a conquest and the Iron Throne. To hurt his feelings, she talks about what she will do to Daenerys.

(It works, and he hates himself for it.)

He tells her that this idea is a fantasy, it's a dream, an illusion, she's lost, they've both lost, the lions have been driven out and will never be able to go home, but she doesn't listen to him, she never listens to him.

"You're the one who should make a walk of atonement," she spits.

Time stands still. This little balancing act they've been playing for weeks has brought them to the edge of a precipice.

In the end, she's the one who crosses the line.

"You killed Jaime."

Jaime was the limit. It was an unspoken agreement between them. Jaime wasn't to be touched, Jaime was something precious, something sacred, Jaime was one of the only things they ever had in common.

(Now, Jaime is what's going to tear them apart.)

"You signed his death warrant when you brought that whore to Westeros," Cersei continues, desperate.

"It was you who killed Jaime," he replies. "You killed him with your lies and your stubbornness. You killed him!"

Something breaks inside him, maybe because he's too angry, maybe because he's just incredibly tired, maybe because he realizes that he will fail again and again.

There's only one way out.

One second he stands in front of Cersei and the next he's on top of her and locks his fingers around her throat. And he _squeezes_.

He doesn't think of Jaime or the child any more. He just wants her to be quiet, to stop talking about this cursed Throne, to stop hating him, to stop reminding him of all his failures and crimes.

It's easy. It will all be over soon.

.

_And when your tears have drowned you, the valonqar shall wrap his hands about your pale white throat and choke the life from you._

You can't escape prophecies.

What's the use of fighting? She knew it would happen.

.

It's easy.

It's too easy.

Cersei is not fighting back.

Why isn't she fighting back?

Their eyes meet. He's looking for hatred, lust for life and only finds resignation - something that reminds him of dust, an absence of tears, an absence of light.

(Jaime's eyes.)

Horrified, he lets go of her and gets up. She coughs and inhales great gulps of air.

He runs away.

.

(_I am a monster. I almost killed my sister and her child. I'm a monster._)

.

Lya must be waiting for him.

He'll convince her to go with him. He can't stay near Cersei any longer, not after what almost happened. He must go far away and never come back.

She's lying on the ground when he finds her. He stupidly thinks that she's asleep.

"Lya?"

Her body is cold.

"Lya!"

And then he notices the horse. He still refuses to understand.

"No."

He shakes her desperately.

"Wake up, please."

(She fell off her horse.)

"Wake up!"

(She fell off her horse and broke her neck.)

He begs again and again. Lya doesn't reply.

(She broke her neck. A stupid death. It has to be a joke.)

"Please..."

Loneliness comes over him, and then horror does. He can almost hear Cersei.

(_I told you._)

.

A whore paid to marry him.

A wife too young and too disgusted to be approached.

A maid whose betrayal was too heartbreaking to be forgiven.

A mad queen looking for him to kill him.

A maiden too innocent to be loved by a lion.

A sentence too screaming of truth to be ignored.

_Only a Lannister can love a Lannister._


	7. Chapter 7

Tyrion drinks until he almost forgets his name.

He drowns everything in alcohol - his grief, his anger, his shame. Especially his shame. The world is different when you're drunk. You're so much more vulnerable.

The ghosts know that, so they come.

Lya sighs, disappointed.

"I could have loved you. Why did you kill me?"

Sansa is disappointed too, but not for the same reasons.

"You should have squeezed harder. She's poison. She'll be the end of you. »

Jaime is horrified.

"What have you done, Tyrion?"

"Leave me alone..."

Shae laughs out loud.

"My little lion, this isn't the first time you've killed a woman, is it?"

He's too drunk to be scared when Daenerys shows up.

"What did you expect? Did you think you could forget me so easily? You were wrong."

Tyrion stops fighting and lets the ghosts devour him.

.

_Only a Lannister can love a Lannister._

Cersei screams in his head.

.

Erlyna Sorren stands between him and Cersei and gives him a cold glare. He keeps his head down.

(_I'm a monster. I'm a monster._)

"It's all right," Cersei says in a strangely weak voice.

Erlyna agrees to step aside and leaves the room.

The silence is deafening.

"Did you kill Lya?" he finally asks.

(A stupid accident. It can't be a stupid accident, it's impossible. There has to be another explanation.)

She frowns, bewildered.

"What?"

"_One day I pray you love someone. I want you to know what it's like to love someone, truly love someone, before I take her from you._ Your words."

She shakes her head without answering.

"_You'll suffer for this. A day will come when you think yourself safe and happy, and suddenly your joy will turn to ashes in your mouth, and you'll know the debt is paid_. Your words," she says.

He can't take his eyes off the bruises on her throat. There's a lump in his.

"She fell off her horse and broke her neck. It was an accident... a stupid accident..."

He wishes it were Cersei's fault so he could have someone else to blame.

Water gathers in his eyes.

"It's my fault. It's all my fault."

(He stood still in King's Landing. Daenerys was spreading fire and blood and he stood still. It was his fault. He's the one who killed all those people.)

He sits next to her on the bed.

"How did we get to this point?" he asks.

(He almost wishes he were dead. Death is oblivion, death is lightness, death is the disappearance of all sorrows, regrets, tears. Death is a snowflake melting on the ground, a flame going out. Death is quick, easy - life is harder.)

"I don't know," Cersei whispers - there's something odd in her voice.

The silence lingers, devious, pernicious, like a poison. Silence is a cage more terrible than shouting. Tyrion glances at her growing belly. How long have they been there? Three months? Four months? He loses track of time.

"You didn't fight back. Why?"

(It has always been a kind of unspoken agreement between them. One attacks and the other responds. They've always defended themselves. Letting the other win has never been an option, so why? Why?)

"I knew."

"What?"

"I knew this would happen."

"I don't understand."

She studies his face for long minutes. She looks at his invisible scars, the ones she inflicted on him with her insults and her contempt, and then she sighs, defeated. He listens to her telling him about a prophecy, three children with golden shrouds and a younger and more beautiful queen.

"The witch told me that I would die strangled by the valonqar," she concludes.

At first this word means nothing to him, but then he remembers Lya, his sweet Lya who taught him Valyrian, Lya who loved the stars and sunsets, Lya who told him about her family. Her father, of course, and then... and then...

And then he knows.

"Little brother," he whispers.

He stands still for a long time, unable to make the slightest movement.

"Tyrion?"

He's still not moving.

"Say something!"

He gets up slowly with a blank expression.

"It was never just about Mother... all these years, you've hated me because you thought I would kill you."

"I-"

"You've hated me for a prophecy._ A prophecy_. _Superstition_."

(So that's what it was all about, the cold looks, the betrayals, the low blows, the attempted murders? All because of a drop of blood and a few words? Only for that?)

That's the best joke he's ever heard.

Before Cersei's stunned gaze, Tyrion bursts out laughing.

.

He doesn't speak to her for a whole week.

A prophecy. A stupid prophecy.

He understands so many things now. The trial, the sept, the lies, her refusal to surrender, her refusal to listen to him - all for this.

(He wishes he'd never understood them. Some things should be left unsaid.)

Lya's body is gone. He thinks of her father and her little brother.

The guilt is unbearable.

One night he digs a hole in the sand and puts the shell she gave him in it.

"I'm sorry," he whispers. "I'm so sorry."

He stands there for a long time with his head down. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Cersei coming towards him.

"Lya was so sweet," Tyrion says. "She didn't deserve this."

He never should have spoken to her.

"_Only a Lannister can love a Lannister_," he said. " What exactly did you mean by that?"

"It's obvious, isn't it?"

He's still confused.

"Every attempt we make to love someone else ends in failure."

(Tysha, Shae, Sansa, Daenerys - Lya.)

"We can't love anyone else but we cause our own downfall by loving each other."

"What?"

"Father loved Mother. Mother died. I loved my children. My children died. Jaime loved me. Jaime died."

"It's... it's..."

He can't find the words.

"It's a curse," Cersei sighs.

Tyrion waits until she's gone before he starts crying.

.

He watches her moan in her sleep. Does she see this younger, more beautiful queen take what is dear to her? Her three children wrapped in golden shrouds?

Does she see him strangling her?

He shakes her until she wakes.

"Cersei."

They stare at each other silently.

_A prophecy. Superstition._

(The bodies of Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen. Daenerys burning King's Landing to the ground. His hands about her throat.)

"You've carried this burden all these years."

(So much blood spilled.)

"You must have been very lonely."

He rolls over and closes his eyes.

.

Cersei no longer tells him about the Iron Throne.

She casts suspicious glances at him. They look at each other cautiously, uncertain, as if they no longer knew how to behave.

"You can rest easy," he tells her. "You will not die strangled by the valonqar."

"Really? You almost killed me."

"It won't happen again. I promise you that. »

She laughs, bitter.

"Promises can be broken, Tyrion. I know about that."

"This prophecy... you're really obsessed with it, aren't you?"

He doesn't wait for her to answer.

"All the worst things you've ever done... it was to keep it from coming true."

"It didn't work. It never works. The prophecy will come true."

"I told you, I'm not going to hurt you."

He sees that she doesn't believe him, so he does something he never would have dared do before.

He puts one hand on her belly - she jumps.

"You're pregnant. The prophecy only spoke of three children."

She frowns before shaking her head.

"You think you'll lose the baby."

"I don't _think_. I know I will."

"You bow... You've never done so before," he says as he removes his hand, almost disappointed.

"I don't need your opinion."

(It can't end like this. Jaime's child will be born. It has to, or all this will have been for nothing.)

.

"Why did you agree to help us? " Tyrion asks Erlyna as she examines Cersei's belly. "You knew nothing about us. You could have let us die. »

He knows she hasn't forgiven him for what he did to Cersei. For some reason, she seems to have grown fond of her. Maternal instinct, no doubt.

She glances at him and sighs sadly.

"I wish someone had helped my son when he came to Westeros... maybe things would have ended differently for him."

Tyrion doesn't know what it's like to lose a child - he can't imagine. Cersei, who never shows any compassion for anyone, briefly squeezes Erlyna's hand.

Grieving mothers - he'll never know.

"How did it happen?" he dares ask.

"He must have been lonely, so lonely... he had no one. So he became someone else. He became a Sparrow."

She doesn't notice the shock on Cersei's face. Neither does he, actually - he sees colors.

White, the color of her complexion. Blonde, the color of Tommen's hair.

(It's too late to stop Erlyna now. It was too late when she first told them about her son.)

"The Sparrows... they were lost children with no family. You've probably heard of them. And one day, the Sparrows all died... »

Red, the color of the wine.

"An explosion of fire..."

Green, the color of death.

Black, the color of mourning.

Tyrion drops his jaw along with his heart. Tears run down Erlyna's cheeks. Cersei is paralyzed.

Erlyna apologizes and leaves the room. Cersei remains frozen.

(A survivor is also a monster.)

.

She has a nightmare that night. It's not hard to guess what she saw.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," she answers immediately before rolling over.

Fate is cruel. She should have known, she who believes so much in this prophecy.

Saved by the woman whose son she murdered. It's so ironic.

Perhaps she's finally experiencing what looks like guilt.

.

The next day, as he leaves the house, he catches her tearing out all the roses from the garden.

"Cersei..."

She ignores it and continues to uproot them with rage.

(Roses - weeds.)

"Cersei!"

He grabs her arm and forces her to look at him. Her eyes are wet with tears, her hands are bleeding. He sighs.

"Come."

He cleans her wounds and tears out the thorns that got stuck in her skin. She's barely shaking. The silence is heavy, as heavy as those moments before the explosion of the Sept must have been.

(Had they understood? It's something he has always wondered. Had they understood what was about to happen? What had they felt during those few seconds before the wildfire devoured them?)

"He was my son," Cersei whispers.

She grabs his hands, almost hurting him.

"He was my son," she repeats, louder. "He was my son..."

"I know," Tyrion says.

(He doesn't know if she's talking about Joffrey or Tommen - it doesn't really matter. Losing a child - no, he can't understand.)

"I know. I know..."

.

(_I am your brother_, he doesn't say.)

(_I know_, she doesn't answer.)


	8. Chapter 8

"Should I tell her?"

Cersei's voice is but a breath in the dark. He's too tired to be surprised that she's asking his opinion about something.

"No," he replies.

(He's already seen too much suffering.)

"It's your burden, and yours only."

He wonders what's going on in her mind. He'd give anything to read her thoughts. He looks for Jaime's ghost around him.

_You would know what she's thinking_, he thinks bitterly.

_One day you will know_, Jaime promises.

.

He studies Cersei, he looks for the slightest flaw, the slightest sign of guilt, regret, anything, anything that would show him that you just cannot watch hundreds of people burn and _feel nothing_.

Because Cersei is Cersei, she shows no emotion.

Because Cersei is Cersei, she makes excuses for what she did.

(The roses - weeds that took her two sons from her.)

He looks at the scars on her hands. Thorns have never done her any good.

Erlyna continues to talk about her son. Cersei continues to listen to her in silence. Tyrion thinks he can see a new glint in her eyes.

(Vengeance. Invisible marks that always come back eventually.)

.

"I don't regret what I did," Cersei says to him one morning for no particular reason.

(She hasn't slept - he knows it, he hasn't slept either. She must have been thinking about this all night long.)

"I'd do it again if I had to," she continues, as if to convince herself.

He doesn't have the energy to be disappointed. A part of him knew. Cersei will always remain Cersei.

"But... but maybe those people didn't all deserve to die," she finally admits.

He nods gently. It's not much.

(To Cersei, it's a lot.)

"They deserved better," he says.

_I deserved better too._

.

Pentos is going through a crisis.

The streets are overflowing with refugees from Westeros. It's dangerous for him to walk around like this, he knows that, but some part of him is convinced that Daenerys is far too busy to track him halfway around the world.

(_Busy with Jon Snow_, a small voice whispers in his head. _Or Jorah Mormont_.)

The thought makes him clench his fists.

One evening, he's with Cersei when they witness a strange scene. The magisters drag a man to the town square and force him to his knees. One of them makes a speech they can't hear before grabbing a dagger and slitting his throat.

"He's the Prince of Pentos," Cersei tells him, " He's chosen by the magisters, but his function is purely symbolic. When the city encounters difficulties, he's blamed and executed."

"Charming," he says ironically.

But he's worried about what this execution means. He does know that this difficulty has silver hair, purple eyes and a fire-breathing dragon.

"The trade with Westeros is in crisis," he guesses.

Cersei smiles with satisfaction. She doesn't care about the prince at all, of course - she's probably thinking that under her reign there never was a problem like this one.

In the crowd, Tyrion spots a man who has been watching them closely for several minutes. He grabs Cersei's arm.

"Come on, let's go."

(What if Daenerys had found them? What if she had sent an assassin after them? What if their days were numbered?)

.

He'll never sleep well again.

He knows he won't. The nightmares will never stop haunting him. Fire, ashes, blood, screams, bells - it's all burned into his mind.

(That, and two purple eyes.)

He gave up taking essence of nightshade a long time ago. It is of no use to Cersei, it doesn't stop the ghosts from coming to haunt her.

He tries to stay awake as long as he can. Sleep is fear. Sleep is being chased. Sleep is feeling like you're dying over and over again.

Cersei has had another nightmare - she wakes up shaking, short of breath.

"Do you want to talk about it? " Tyrion asks.

He knows she'll refuse, she always does, her mind is a vault that only Jaime has ever managed to open.

"Yes," she replies.

.

She tells him about the Red Keep, what it was like to see her home crumble around her, all that dust, the sound of the bells, the flames, Jaime's cold body against her warm body - emptiness. Despair.

"This is not how it was supposed to happen," he mutters, just as desperate as she is.

(_Why? Why did you do this? You had everything, absolutely everything. You ruined everything._)

"Things never go according to plan," Cersei sighs.

"Why do you want to go back so badly?" he asks, devoured by curiosity.

"For the Throne. It was all for the Throne... »

"The Throne," he laughs bitterly. "The Throne has taken everything from us. Your children. Jaime. Our family..."

(Yes, it really was all for the Throne.)

"I need it," she insists.

He sighs, defeated.

"You'll never get it back. You'd better get used to that idea."

.

He thinks of Lya. Her honey-colored curls, her blue eyes, her beautiful smile - she, too, is ashes now.

_Only a Lannister can love a Lannister._

He should have listened to Cersei.

(She didn't listen when he begged her outside the city gates, so he didn't listen to her either. What fools they are.)

He caresses his pin with his fingertips. He liked Lya, he really did, but he didn't love her. He might have, if he'd had more time.

(Maybe he would have loved her if she had had silver hair and purple eyes.)

The pin. The last remnant of all his hopes, his dreams. The rest went up in smoke.

_I should get rid of it_, he thinks every morning.

He knows he can't do that. He'll never be able to bring himself to.

(_I love you. Why do I love you so much? You've broken my heart. You burned everything. You made me betray you, so why?_)

.

Tyrion Lannister loved Daenerys Targaryen, but Tyrion Lannister is dead now. Forgetting her should have been easy.

(Nothing ever goes according to plan.)

.

He thinks everything is over when he hears someone call his name.

"Tyrion Lannister?"

(It's impossible, he must have misheard. Tyrion Lannister is dead to the world. Tyrion Lannister no longer exists.)

"Tyrion Lannister?"

He turns to the man he saw in the crowd a few days earlier. His eyes are as dark as his skin.

"Who are you?" he asks.

He can barely hide his fear.

(It's all over. Daenerys has found them. Death will come for him in a few minutes).

"My name is Stallor Nestaar. I'm one of the city magisters."

"How do you know my name?"

He bursts out laughing.

"You said it yourself about a month ago."

"What do you mean?" he asks, confused.

"I'm not surprised that you don't remember. You were so drunk..."

"Drunk..."

There's only one time he could have been drunk enough to forget to be careful.

(Lya's corpse. His hands about Cersei's throat.)

"You know there's a price on your head, don't you?" Stallor Nestaar says. "The Dragon Queen must be very mad at you..."

"What do you want?" he asks curtly.

"It's dangerous to walk around without protection for someone in your... situation," the magistrate continues without answering.

His heart twists. He's going to denounce them. Worse, he'll kill them and send their heads to Daenerys.

"And what do you want me to do about it?"

"The former Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and the former Hand of the Dragon Queen. I would be honored to have you as my guests..."

"What... your _guests_?"

"My house is one of the most protected in Pentos. You'd be safe there... I'm afraid I wasn't the only one who heard your name. Not everyone is as well-intentioned as I am."

(Oh, he doesn't like this at all.)

"Besides, that Dragon Queen is likely to cause us some problems in the future... you know her. We could use your advice."

"I... I..."

"I'll wait for you tomorrow at the same time to hear your answer."

He walks away.

Tyrion can almost see the shadow of a dragon covering him.

.

"I hope this is a joke."

"What do you think?"

Cersei is pacing around the room.

"An honor? We would be his hostages, no more and no less. He would sell us out at the first opportunity."

"I know, I know!"

"If we refuse, he'll do it anyway. We are at his mercy."

"You think I don't know that?"

"What were you thinking, telling him your name?"

"I was drunk."

"You should have done anything to avoid being in this situation."

She scowls and rubs her swollen belly before consenting to sit down, as if exhausted.

"I almost killed you. Lya was dead."

She snorts with contempt.

"We're the ones who will soon be dead."

"That should make you happy, shouldn't it?" he says ironically. "After all, you sent Bronn to kill me and Jaime."

"He wasn't very successful, was he?," she replies in the same tone.

He gets up and stands in front of her.

"How could you?"

"What?"

"Send Bronn to kill us. You wanted me dead, I can understand that... but killing Jaime? Really, Cersei? Seven hells, what were you thinking?"

She lowers her eyes to the ground, refusing to look at him any longer, and remains silent.

"Why?" Tyrion insists.

"Why does it matter? You survived, didn't you?"

"I want to know why."

"Because you let me down!" she cries as she gets up abruptly, making him step back. "Both of you, you let me down."

Tyrion's eyes are wide open.

"You can't be serious."

"You let me down. You sided with that Targaryen whore... you chose her over me."

"You made us do it! You let us down first!"

(_You let me down the moment I was born._)

As usual, Cersei doesn't want to hear anything.

"You let me down..."

She turns away angrily. It doesn't matter that she hated him, it doesn't matter that she tried to kill him. In her mind, he should have died rather than side with the enemy. He should have died like a lion rather than aspire to be a dragon.

"You loved Jaime. You loved him, and you wanted him dead?"

It's insane, so insane.

She has a odd look when she faces him and says:

"Sometimes the line between love and hate is a fine one."

It's his turn to look down.

(_You burned King's Landing. You burned my heart._)

And he can only nod when he thinks of two purple eyes.

"As for this magister... I guess we have no choice," Cersei says.

"No," he says grimly. "We don't have a choice."

.

Saying goodbye to Erlyna Sorren is more difficult than he expected. Cersei even gives her one of her rare smiles.

"Thank you," he says. "Thank you for helping us."

She waits until Cersei has moved away before answering:

"Try not to kill each other. Lions are not meant to be alone."

He's not naive enough not to understand what she means.

"You know. You know who we are."

"Yes."

"Since when?"

"I found out a few weeks ago. You learned Valyrian... she taught me the Common tongue."

He looks for anger in his eyes. He's surprised he can't find it.

"You should hate her."

"I should."

"She killed your son."

"She did."

"Why didn't you denounce us? You should want her dead."

"Probably."

Cersei has stopped and waits for him, frowning.

"I am a healer. I've seen pain, sorrow, grief, death. I've seen more suffering than many men could bear. But...

Erlyna gets lost in thought.

"But I've never seen anything like this. I heard her scream every night for months. I admit it, some part of me does find comfort in it now... However, I think... I think she's been punished enough," she sighs. "Hatred never brings any good. You'd do well to remember that..."

.

(Hatred is like fire. It burns everything until there is nothing left - a little like love.)


	9. Chapter 9

Guest: thank you so much! I'm glad you like this story!

* * *

When they meet up with Stallor Nestaar, Cersei doesn't give him a look.

"Your sister us lovely," he says ironically. "And pregnant..."

He can't conceal the greed in his voice.

(Tyrion doesn't like this, not at all. He feels like he's on his way to the slaughterhouse.)

They've been walking for a few minutes when they hear a familiar sound - a sound they both want to forget, a sound that meant the end a golden dream, the end of lions.

The city bells are ringing.

Tyrion freezes, and he remembers everything.

(Daenerys, the flames, the ashes, Daenerys, the dragon, Daenerys, the corpses.)

"What's going on?" he whispers.

"We've chosen our new prince," Stallor tells him. The last one unfortunately turned out to be... disappointing. Is everything all right?"

"I'm fine," he replies, his teeth clenched.

(There is no dragon. Daenerys hasn't found them. Pentos won't end up like King's Landing, burned to the ground as if it never existed. Everything is all right.)

The bells keep ringing.

"Cersei?"

Tyrion turns around. Leaning against a wall, her hands on her ears, she lets herself sink onto the ground, eyes closed, an expression of pure terror on her face.

"Cersei..."

He approaches her gently and puts his hand on her arm.

"Don't touch me!" she cries, pushing him away.

.

The bells are ringing.

Everything collapses around her. Death lurks around. She hears the dragon, she sees the flames.

She can't see Jaime.

She can't move.

_Shame. Shame. Shame._

The bells keep ringing in her head.

.

"Cersei."

"Don't come near me," she snaps, trembling.

He ignores her and grabs her arm. She struggles in vain to make him let go of her.

"It's all right," he tells her. It's all right."

_The bells are ringing_, her eyes scream, _nothing is all right, I have nothing left, no throne, no crown, no power, Jaime is dead, I am alone, nothing is all right, nothing is all right._

"It's all right," he repeats louder. "It's only bells. Daenerys isn't here. The dragon isn't here."

(_I'm here. I'm here._)

"Leave me alone," she sobs.

"Let me help you. Please, let me. There's no fire. It's all right."

He makes her look him in the eye. It's odd - it's like looking into Jaime's eyes.

"You can trust me. It's all right."

_You would say you hated me, but you trusted me once. You used to tell me your doubts, your innermost thoughts. You trusted me not to tell the truth about you and Jaime. Please trust me again._

(Jaime's eyes should never shed tears - it doesn't feel right.)

He lets her grab his arm and squeeze it until she calms down.

"It's all right," he repeats.

He helps her get up. Stallor watches them pensively.

"Let's go," Tyrion says.

The bells have stopped ringing.

Cersei hasn't let go of his arm.

.

Stallor Nestaar is a rich man - very rich.

That's the first thing Tyrion finds out when he walks into the magister's house. He comes to believe that he's the real Prince of Pentos.

"You'll be all right here," Stallor says. "As I said, this house is one of the best guarded in the city. My servants are at your service. If you'll excuse me..."

He walks out of the room, leaving them alone. Tyrion takes one look at the two servants as they go about their business.

"The gardens look beautiful," he says suddenly. "We should go and have a look."

Cersei understands and nods.

(It's like in the Red Keep - the walls have ears.)

They stop in front of a rose bed. Cersei frowns but makes no comment.

"We have to find a way out of this situation," Tyrion says, making sure no one is listening to them.

"Do you have a plan?"

"Not yet," he admits. "I was hoping you had one..."

"I can't do anything for now."

He glances at her belly.

"When will the baby be here?"

"In two months."

He didn't realize how fast time has gone by since they escaped. He sighs.

"He could sell us out to Daenerys a hundred times in the meantime," he says. "He could trade us for the assurance that she'll leave Pentos in peace."

(Daenerys won't be satisfied with the Iron Throne, he knows that. She will want to conquer the world, because that's what she is - a conqueror.)

She doesn't answer and looks away from the roses before going on her way.

"About this morning... " Tyrion begins.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"You had a panic attack," he insists. "I think... I think it would be good to talk about it. »

She turns to him and he sees a desperate light in her eyes.

"What do you want me to say? That I remembered everything? That it felt like I was dying over and over again? That I felt Jaime's corpse against me?"

She walks away angrily. He doesn't try to catch up with her.

"I wish you were here," he whispers to Jaime's ghost. "I miss you. I'm so lonely."

"You're not alone," he replies.

(_It's as if I am. It's as if I am..._)

.

There's something wrong.

It's the first thought that crosses his mind as he lies down on his bed. He's got his own room now - he was glad of it at first.

There's something wrong, and he realizes what it is.

He's alone.

The only thing he hears is the sound of his heart beating.

(There used to be another heart beating next to him, there used to be someone reminding him that he was alive, that he was still breathing, that the darkness was not the darkness of death.)

He naively hopes that if he used to have nightmares, it was because of Cersei - Cersei is the reason of his misfortune, Cersei refused to surrender, Cersei was selfish, Cersei is responsible for everything.

He won't have nightmares - nightmares are a thing of the past.

.

He's wrong, of course.

.

Everything is terrifying.

Everything is wildfire.

Everything is silver hair and purple eyes.

Everything is death and despair.

No one will hear him scream.

.

Days go by.

The nightmares get worse. His bed is too large, and most of all, too empty. He feels like he's decaying a little bit more every day. He feels like they're both decaying, but they don't talk about it, even though they should.

He wonders which one of them will break down first.

.

"Mother?"

Tyrion walks in the ruins of King's Landing under an ash-colored sky. He hears the dragon roar in the distance. He's alone - totally alone.

"Mother?"

"I'm here, Tyrion."

He turns to the woman who called him. Her voice is familiar, as is her face - but where has he seen her before?

He runs towards her, but she moves back, shaking her head.

"Mother...don't leave me," he begs.

"I can't help you, Tyrion. I can't love you. I'm sorry."

He has no time to hear his heart break - the dragon appears and devours him.

.

"What did Mother look like? "

The sun is barely up. A few rays of sunlight are streaming through the curtains and dimly light up the room. Cersei wasn't asleep, he's sure of it. She sits up.

"What?"

She's as exhausted as he is - he can see the dark circles under her eyes.

"What did Mother look like?"

"Leave me alone with this..."

"What did Mother look like?" he insists.

(He needs to know, he needs to know what that woman looked like, he needs to know why her face is so familiar to him.)

"I want to know. I _deserve_ to know. What did Mother look like?"

"You don't-"

He grabs her shoulders and shakes her slightly.

"Tell me. I want to know. What did Mother look like? I want to know! I want to-"

"I don't remember!"

Shaken, he lets go of her. She pushes him away without any softness and moves away to the other end of the room, her arms around her belly.

"What?" he whispers weakly.

"I don't remember!" she repeats, tears appearing in the corner of her eyes. "There, are you happy?_ I don't remember._"

(No, he's not happy. How could he be?)

"There's nothing left," Cersei says, desperate. "I close my eyes and try to remember, but there's nothing left. I don't even remember her corpse... there's nothing, nothing at all..."

He realizes what it means to him - he'll never know. Joanna Lannister will remain a shadow, a faceless ghost, an unattainable dream.

"Why did you save me?" Cersei asks as she stands before him.

(He feels tiny in front of her, in front of her sadness, her anger, her fury - so tiny.)

"I've already told you. For Jaime. For the child."

"You're lying. Jaime... Jaime was dead. You weren't even sure I was pregnant. You loved Daenerys. You owed me nothing, absolutely nothing."

"I-"

"Why did you save me? I want the real reason. Tell me."

(He can't tell her, he can't, if does the nightmares will get even worse.)

"Leave me alone," he almost begs. "I saved you, that's all that matters..."

"I want to know why. _Tell me_."

"I did it for me!" he breaks down as an uncontrollable stream of tears rolls down his cheeks. "I was alone, I was so alone. I loved her but I couldn't stay... I was alone, she let me down the moment those stupid bells rang... she ruined everything, everything... I was so alone. I couldn't save all those people... those innocent people... Jaime... and then I saw you. You were alive. I couldn't save them, but maybe I could save you... I was alone. You were all I had left. She burned everything. I was alone..._ I never want to be alone again._"

The truth is ugly, sad, hopeless.

Lions are not meant to be alone.

They're both crying by the time he finishes talking. Cersei sits on her bed, almost falling - she looks so weak, so fragile. As alone as he is. He makes a move towards her, but she stops him with a look.

"If we can't live together, we're going to die alone," he warns.

She wipes her tears away and says:

"So be it."

"Cersei... don't do this..."

(_Don't make us be alone_, he wants to shout. _Don't make me be alone, please don't. Anything, anything rather than being alone._)

"Get out."

She looks away, and her words sound like a death sentence. He thinks he's back on the day of his trial, when the Mountain crushed Oberyn Martell's skull.

He walks out of the room with his head down.

(Loneliness. Death. He can't tell the difference.)

.

"Tyrion?"

Stallor Nestaar calls him later in the day.

"I have some information you might find of interest."

"Really?"

(He's so alone.)

"Yes. Jon Snow has been crowned King Consort under the name of Aegon Targaryen."

He studies his reaction carefully. Tyrion's blood freezes, his heart stops, his eyes get wet.

(She married him - she married another.)

Loneliness.

He didn't know what it was like, he really didn't .

(He wishes he didn't know now. He's not meant to be alone, he never was.)


	10. Chapter 10

Guest: Thank you very much!

* * *

_Jon Snow has been crowned King Consort under the name of Aegon Targaryen._

Tyrion wanders the streets without even looking where he's going. Tears of rage burn his eyes.

_Jon Snow has been crowned King Consort under the name of Aegon Targaryen._

He can't believe it. Even his nightmares weren't so terrible. He feels betrayed.

_Jon Snow has been crowned King Consort under the name of Aegon Targaryen._

Daenerys married Jon. It sounds like a bad joke, a bad dream. It can't be real. Everything that's happened since he fled King's Landing is not real. Soon he'll awaken and be at Daenerys's side. He's the one she'll marry, not the bastard of Winterfell. He's the one she'll kiss, he's the one who'll share her bed.

_Jon Snow has been crowned King Consort under the name of Aegon Targaryen._

(Things never go according to plan.)

.

It makes sense, after all. Daenerys wants to rise the Targaryen dynasty from the ashes. She wants to erase all the memories of the lions. It will be as if they never existed.

_Hear me roar._

Fire cannot be roared out.

.

He got lost. Pentos is a big city, a big city he doesn't know.

(Blinded by his grief. He's really nothing like a lion.)

_Never forget who you are, because the rest of the world will not_, he told Jon Snow all those years ago. With Daenerys, he was Hand of the Queen, he was her advisor, he had power.

Now he's just a dwarf, and the rest of the world hasn't forgotten it.

He wanders down a dark street when he sees them.

(He'd forgotten how cruel teenagers can be - he'd almost forgotten _Joffrey._)

There are three of them. They laugh at him, first they point at him and insult him, laughing. He tries to ignore them - they won't let him. They gather around him.

(A trapped lion, that's what he is.)

His heart beats fast, too fast, way too fast when he notices that one of them is holding a dagger.

"Leave me alone."

They laugh in response. The one holding the dagger slashes his arm.

"Can dwarves run?" he says mockingly.

.

It lasts a long time.

It's a game to them. They run after him, slash his arm, torso or thigh before letting him go. He tries to hide, but it's useless. Pentos is their city. He's just a stranger, a parasite, a nuisance.

They make a show of it. A few people stop and enjoy it, a mocking smile on their lips.

(A dwarf. He's just a dwarf. An abomination.)

Indifference. It's much worse than hatred.

No one will help him, he knows that.

Everyone laughs, some spit at him.

(Laughter is sharper than this dagger.)

They chase him until he's too exhausted to keep running, until he collapses on the ground, out of breath.

The one holding the dagger leans over him. The game is over, it seems.

He thinks that it's over for good this time.

( t looks like death won't have Daenerys's purple eyes after all.)

The blade touches his throat. People say that before you die, you see your whole life before your eyes. Tyrion sees nothing, nothing at all. He looks for one last image to take with him and only finds a piece of sky.

He closes his eyes, but death doesn't come. When he opens them and stands up, he can hardly believe what he sees.

Cersei faces the three boys. They've stopped smiling. The dagger has fallen on the ground.

(Threatening a dwarf is one thing, threatening a pregnant woman is another.)

He's too exhausted to understand what they're saying - he can only hear one word.

"..._valonqar_..."

(Valonqar. The cursed word.)

They exchange a last glance and flee. He sits in the dust and his own blood.

"Come," Cersei says to him.

He doesn't react.

"I can't carry you," she continues dryly. "Get up."

She grabs his arm and helps him get on his feet. They set off silently. Tyrion keeps his eyes down. His whole body hurts.

(But that's not really the problem, is it?)

He realizes that he's not far from Stallor Nestaar's house, as if, unconsciously, he's run to the only place where he could hope to be safe.

"My brother is hurt. Take care of his wounds and draw a bath," Cersei commands two servants.

(The pain is nothing. But the shame... the shame...)

.

"My lady?"

Cersei is sitting in the gardens, rubbing her belly as she watches the sunset.

"What's the matter?"

"It's... it's your brother."

The servant girl looks particularly uncomfortable.

"Well?"

"He... he won't let us near him. He ordered us out."

"And you listened to him? He's in shock. He doesn't know what he's saying."

"I... I think you should go and see for yourself..."

Cersei sighs with irritation.

(Her valonqar will somehow be the end of her.)

.

Tyrion is sitting in a corner of the room with his head between his knees when Cersei enters. He doesn't look up and keeps sobbing.

"Stop crying."

She stands in front of him.

(His tears are still falling.)

"Stop crying," she repeats.

She doesn't understand, she doesn't understand how he feels and she doesn't even try - another sharp thing. A new cut.

Cersei grabs his arm, but he pulls away violently.

"Don't touch me!"

(He doesn't want to be touched ever again.)

"Leave me alone," he says. "You're just like them. You're going to make fun of me. All you've ever done is make fun of me. You don't know... you don't know..."

She laughs with contempt.

"Do you think I don't know what that feels like?"

She forces him to stand up and grabs his shoulders, looking into his eyes.

"What are our words?"

"_Hear me roar_. But..."

"We're lions. I told you, the lion bows to no one. A Lannister bows to no one."

The Lannisters. A memory. A shadow. A nightmare.

"Tyrion Lannister is dead._ Cersei Lannister_ is dead. They died in King's Landing. I'm not a lion, not any more."

(_I never was_.)

"We will always be lions. _Always_."

"You don't understand... what they did to me... I'm not a lion. Only a dwarf."

"You're a dwarf," she agrees. "I'm a woman. I've been underestimated. I've been laughed at. I've been spat at. And yet, here I am. I'm alive. Because I'm a survivor."

He's stopped crying. Cersei stands up, satisfied.

"Take off your clothes. These cuts must be attended to."

"No."

(He's been humiliated enough as it is.)

"Don't be a child. Take off your clothes."

"No."

(So much shame - he could never stand it.)

Cersei is losing her patience.

"If I wanted to make fun of you, I would have done so already. Just do as I say."

His cheeks are on fire. He finally decides to obey. Shame, even more shame when his twisted little body finds itself naked before her eyes. Shame when he stares at the bruises and cuts on his skin.

He keeps his eyes closed while she cleans his wounds. He keeps his eyes closed as she helps him climb into the tub.

(_Monster. Monster. Monster. Monster._)

He wants to say something, anything, anything to make the shame go away.

"I..."

The tears start falling again and he can't stop them. Cersei remains silent. How could he explain to her how he feels? How he felt so weak, so vulnerable? How he was unable to defend himself? How he was treated like a mere animal?

(But maybe he doesn't have to explain it to her.)

"What did it feel like, Cersei? Your walk of atonement."

(_Shame. Shame. Shame._)

.

She's staring at him intensely. Something new has been created between them today.

"It felt like this."

Something born out of hatred, but not the hatred they feel for each other (felt?).

"I was beginning to think you were gone..." she says.

"Where to?" he replies bitterly. "I have nowhere to go."

He wonders what she was doing out there. Is it possible she went looking for him? Is it possible she was _worried_ about him? He's not sure he wants to know the answer.

"Why did you save me?" he asks. "You could have let them do it. You would have been rid of me. You saved your valonqar..."

She sighs at length.

"A Lannister always pays her debts."

When the water has gotten cold, he gets out of the tub and slips into bed after putting on clean clothes. Cersei sits beside him, pensive.

"I lied," he says.

"What?"

"I said I laughed when I heard about your walk of atonement... I lied. I laughed, but I didn't mean it. I didn't mean it at all."

She studies his face at length and then shrugs, as if, after all, it no longer mattered.

"This thing you want from me..."

"I don't want anything from you."

She laughs.

"Of course you do. This thing you want... I can't give it to you."

She gets up. He grabs her wrist.

"Why?"

(He's weak, so weak. Father would be ashamed of him - but Father was always ashamed of him anyway.)

"If this is about the prophecy-"

"It's not just about the prophecy. I told you... we're cursed."

(_Only a Lannister can love a Lannister._)

"You saved me in King's Landing, so I saved you. I've paid my debt. I don't owe you anything any more."

"Please... stay with me," he asks, ignoring her words. "I have terrible nightmares. I know you do too."

She makes him let go of her wrist.

"Aren't you tired of being alone?" he says in despair.

(_I am._)

"It doesn't matter. We'll be the end of each other... loneliness is our only chance of survival."

Cersei leaves the room. He closes his eyes not to see the darkness and the ghosts devour him.

.

"He's right, you know."

She jumps. Jaime's ghost is sitting on the bed when she enters her room.

"Jaime..."

"He's all you have left."

"He'll kill me... if I don't kill him first."

He gets up and puts his immaterial hand on her belly.

"You know that I've never believed in prophecies or curses. He needs you, Cersei. And you need him... even if you're too proud to admit it."

"I need you. Only you."

He smiles sadly.

"Don't be alone. Lions aren't meant to be alone."

He disappears, leaving her alone with her tears.


	11. Chapter 11

Guest: yes it was very painful to write :/

* * *

Loneliness.

Real loneliness.

He thought he knew what it was. He was wrong.

Cersei ignores him. She won't speak to him, she won't even look at him.

(He never thought he'd regret her sharp words and her scornful looks, and yet... and yet...)

Erlyna Sorren had warned him.

Lions are not meant to be alone.

.

"Why did we die, Mother?"

"Because you were killed."

"No. We died for the Throne... It was all for the Throne..."

She wakes up. The bed still seems so empty to her.

She doesn't like being alone, she never has. She's a lioness, and lions aren't meant to be alone.

(She has no choice. Loneliness or death.)

Sometimes she thinks it would be so much easier to swallow ten drops of essence of nightshade. No more ashes, no more ghosts, no more nightmares - peace. Jaime. Her children.

And then she looks down at her swollen belly. She still has something left. A new cub - a piece of Jaime.

(_The Throne is still there_, a small voice whispers to her.)

Joffrey, Tommen, Myrcella, Jaime - it was all for the Throne.

(_Was it worth it?_ Jaime asks.)

.

Sometimes their eyes meet.

_Look at me. Hate me, insult me if you must, but look at me. I don't want to be alone any more. Just look at me. (Love me.)_

_You will kill me. My valonqar. A Lannister. I'm cursed. We're cursed. We have to be alone. You will kill me. (I don't want to kill you.)_

.

Being alone is thinking. Thinking is suffering. Suffering is feeling like you're dying over and over again. Being alone means being visited by ghosts - especially Daenerys's.

"You chose her," she says. "You chose her over me."

Cersei and Daenerys. Daenerys and Cersei.

The difference is that one is his blood and the other is not.

Blood is thicker than water.

"If you loved me, you would have stayed."

"Sometimes the line between love and hate is a fine one," he sighs.

Daenerys disappears.

.

_You let me down. You accused me of a crime I didn't commit. You forced me to run away to Essos. I brought her to Westeros because you let me down._

_You let me down. You killed Father. My children are dead. I lost my crown. My whole life has been burned to the ground because you let me down._

.

Stallor Nestaar often hosts feasts. Each time he orders them to stay in their room - no one is supposed to know they're here. Tyrion is watching his pin when he hears the music.

_High in the halls of the kings who are gone..._

He freezes. He feels like he's back at Winterfell, just before the Long Night.

_Jenny would dance with her ghosts..._

He drops the pin and, ignoring Stallor's orders, comes out of his room. Cersei, leaning against the wall, seems distraught.

Their eyes meet. They stare at each other for long seconds.

_The ones she had lost..._

And then her mask of impassivity shatters. Cersei Lannister, first of her name, Queen of the Andals and the First Men is gone. The lioness so proud, so cruel, the mother of madness is a thing of the past. The broken woman that she is now falls to her knees and starts crying.

_The ones she had found..._

Then Tyrion wraps his arms around her and the tears he sheds run down her neck. She clings to him as if he were all that was keeping her in this world, she clings to him until she almost suffocates him and it feels good, _finally_, the warmth of a body after those long months of freezing loneliness, it feels good to hold someone, it feels good not to be alone any more.

_And the ones who had loved her the most..._

"I want my throne," Cersei sobs. "I want my crown. I want my children. I want Jaime."

"I know..."

"I want to go home."

"I know... I know..."

They cling to each other as if a storm were about to overwhelm them, as if their lives depended on it.

(It wasn't about forgiveness, it wasn't about forgetting the past - it was about survival.)

_And she never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave..._

.

A home is a place where you feel safe, Cersei said.

She was wrong. A home is a place where the people you love are.

(Tyrion was never safe, yet he had a home.)

"You were just looking for a home... " he whispers to his pin.

.

"Mother?"

He's not in King's Landing this time. He's at Casterly Rock - where it all began. She doesn't turn away this time. The sun is shining on her face.

And Tyrion knows why it looks so familiar.

(A part of him knew all along.)

A loving mother. That's all he wanted.

.

"We died for the throne," Tommen says.

"But who killed us?" Myrcella asks.

"Tyrion," Cersei replies with little conviction.

They shake their heads.

"Who killed us, Mother? Who really killed us?"

"Please..."

"Who killed us? Who killed us? Who killed us? Who-"

"I did!" she cries, putting her hands over her ears as the last lies are being broken, as the last illusions are being torn apart. "I did..."

_I did. I did. I did._

(It was all for the Throne.)

"Cersei."

Jaime appears and wipes her tears away. He kisses her forehead.

"It's all right. It's all right."

Her cheeks are wet when she wakes up.

.

One morning, Tyrion goes to the beach. He gathers a dozen small stones on the shore.

(He will never find one as big as his regrets.)

He picks one up and looks at it for a long time.

(Too many regrets, way too many.)

He hears her before seeing her.

"Cersei," he says. "Do you have a stone?"

It turns out she doesn't have one - it doesn't matter. He's willing to share some of his own.

(That's what this is all about, isn't it? Shared regrets.)

Finally, he throws four stones in the sea. They sink immediately - that's what he expected. There are too many things weighing them down.

(A crossbow. An escape. A new queen. A massacre.)

"I shouldn't have let you down," Tyrion whispers.

She doesn't answer and just throws her stones - four, again. These sink even faster.

(A trial. A poisoned princess. A dead king. A lie.)

"I shouldn't have let you down either," Cersei whispers back - a shared admission of guilt.

.

"Mother... in my dreams. She has your face."

He doesn't see her stunned look - he turns away before.

.

That night he doesn't sleep with his pin and leaves it on the floor.

He doesn't see Daenerys in his nightmares.

.

The next day, he returns to the beach and walks into the sea, his pin in the palm of his hand. It's not his first attempt, but never before has he been able to bring himself to do it.

(Maybe if he went back to Westeros, maybe if he begged Daenerys...)

"What are you doing?"

Cersei followed him. He glances at her - she seems a little dizzy.

"Nothing," he says.

But she sees the pin in his hand and the grief in his eyes and his body shaking before he has time to pull himself together.

(The pin is getting heavier by the second.)

"Do you still love her?" she asks.

(_I could be your king, I could love you, I could..._)

She is pale and barely stands on her legs. He stares at her swollen belly. Only a few weeks left.

(And then what?)

"I believe that love is everywhere in this world."

(Lya - shiny hair, bright eyes, sweet smile.)

"It's just waiting for me to find it."

He thinks she will laugh at him with disdain, as she usually does, but she just closes her eyes and when she opens them again, he sees the spark of something other than contempt, mistrust or hatred, something that is not entirely new - he's seen it before.

(_Oh, Jaime._)

"You still don't get it, do you?"

Her hand is stroking her belly. He imagines her stroking the child's hair in a few months.

(How he has dreamt of her stroking his own hair.)

"I told you. Only a Lannister can love a Lannister."

It's a curse, a terrible one.

(Joanna, lying on a bloody bed before a sobbing Tywin. Jaime, crushed by rocks after having cast aside his one chance at a new beginning. Lya, sweet and kind Lya - gone.)

She doesn't expect any reply from him and simply goes back to where she came from, walking as fast as she can on the wet sand.

Tyrion looks at the pin and kisses it, just as he would have kissed Daenerys's soft lips.

(He can taste the blood. The smell of burning lingers.)

"I loved you. I should have been there for you. I should have listened to you more. I should have reassured you. I loved you, and I should have told you so. I'm sorry."

He throws the pin into the sea, and by the time it sinks into the deep blue waters, he has already turned away.

.

He can't fall asleep.

(Loneliness - so cold, so terrible. Lions are not meant to be alone.)

He's tired of being alone.

He sees only one solution.

He gets up, walks out of his room and starts crossing the corridor. The ghosts know what he's going to do, of course. They try to stop him.

Jon Snow, first.

"She tried to kill you."

"I tried to kill her too."

He looks down and disappears.

Sansa, next.

"She's a monster. Poison. She'll be the end of you."

"We're all monsters," he says. "Even you..."

Defeated, she disappears. Daenerys takes her place.

"She let you down," she says.

He looks at her for a long time. It's the Daenerys he likes to remember, the fair woman who used to tell him of freedom for hours, not that Mad Queen with ashes in her hair who destroyed an entire city.

"She did," he admits. "But I let her down too. We're even now."

He steps forward. The last ghost is waiting for him by the door. Jaime doesn't make a move to try to stop him.

"You understand, don't you? " Tyrion asks. "I know what she is... so did you. I have no one left, no one but her."

"I know," Jaime nods. "I know..."

He fades away.

Tyrion gently pushes the door. The room is dark - all the candles have burned out.

(_Go away_, the ghosts whisper to him. _She's poison. She'll get you before you notice anything and she'll drag you down with her._)

He walks silently towards her bed. He can see her body tense up - she's awake.

(_Nightmares_, he thinks, the same as his own.)

He crawls into the bed. He knows he should leave right away, before it's too late, but he won't. His sister. His blood. She doesn't move, doesn't do anything to show him that she knows he's there.

"Don't make me be alone again," he whispers, almost begging.

(_Only a Lannister can love a Lannister._)

She's awake, her breathing is irregular, but silence is her only response.

(_She's poison_, the ghosts repeat.)

He sighs and rolls over, but before he has time to stand up, her arms wrap around him and pull him close. He can feel her swollen belly in his back.

(The child - hope.)

She buries her face in his neck and he finally understands that this was always meant to be.

This is where he belongs.

.

(_He'll let her poison his mind, his heart and his soul if it means she'll do so loving him._)

(_She'll let him be the end of her if it means she no longer has to be alone._)


	12. Chapter 12

So this is the last chapter of the first part of this series, thank you so much for reading and for your wonderful comments, it's been a real pleasure to write this story and share it with you!

Guest: I think they deserved it, they've been through so much!

* * *

They still have one last regret - perhaps the biggest of all. This one cannot be symbolized by a simple pebble. Stallor Nestaar is so rich that he will never notice the disappearance of one of his rubies.

Nor can this regret be thrown into the sea. Tyrion digs a hole in the sand and Cersei puts the ruby in it. They contemplate it for a long time, silently.

"No one understood," says Cersei." No one's ever tried to understand... Father, Ned Stark... they didn't try... they thought it was disgusting..."

She turns to him.

"But not you."

"It's true," he admits.

"When did you find out?"

"I don't remember... I was young, very young."

"Have you ever been... disgusted?"

Cersei and Jaime. Jaime and Cersei. Two bodies, one being, one heart.

"No," he answers honestly."It never seemed... wrong."

Cersei nods. It's too late for doubts, of course - it's been too late for decades. Tyrion knows he should have thought it was disgusting, but he just couldn't. Jaime loved Cersei and Cersei loved Jaime. They were meant to be together, it was as simple as that.

"Daenerys's soldiers captured him as he was trying to reach you," he reveals."I freed him. I wanted him to save you and I wanted the two of you to escape."

"You never told me that."

"You never asked."

(She wasn't interested, of course. He can understand. Jaime had come back - it didn't matter how.)

"I never wanted you to die," he says. "Never. I never wanted to destroy our family."

She looks into his eyes. None of them have any reason to lie any more. Cersei nods in resignation.

"I know."

She picks up a handful of sand.

"Should we say a few words?"

"Yes," Tyrion says, imitating her.

A lump is forming in his throat. He doesn't want to say goodbye. Jaime's death still seems so unreal. He wants to say so many things. He wants to say that he misses him. He wants to say that he's sorry. He wants to say that he deserved better, that he deserved better siblings.

The words get stuck in his throat.

"Goodbye, Jaime," he whispers."I love you."

Tears roll down Cersei's cheeks.

"I am sorry. I love you so much. I miss you."

They cover the ruby with sand.

"Goodbye," she whispers.

Out of the corner of his eye, Tyrion briefly sees Jaime's ghost smiling at them before disappearing.

(_I'll never leave, Tyrion. I'll always be with you._)

.

When the sun goes down, they both hesitate.

(Lions and their stupid pride.)

"Can I... can I sleep in your bed?" he asks.

It's almost funny to see her so uncomfortable. She nods without looking at him. She would never have stooped to the idea of asking him herself, he knows that.

(One of them has to make the first move.)

They both crawl into the large bed that doesn't seem so empty to Cersei now. Tyrion brushes her swollen belly with his fingertips.

"May I?"

"Yes."

Her skin is warm. He can't stop smiling when he feels the baby move. The candles make shadows dance on Cersei's face. There's a slight smile on her lips but she frowns, showing her anxiety.

The shadow of the prophecy still hovers between them.

"Everything will be all right," Tyrion says."The child will be all right."

"You don't know that."

"Forget about this prophecy. It's haunted you enough as it is. We are free to choose our fate. Nothing is written, nothing at all."

She sighs.

"I wish I could believe it."

(Daenerys believed in fate too. She believed her destiny was to be the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms - she chose to be Queen of the Ashes).

"Try to get some sleep," Tyrion says.

.

"Why did you love Daenerys?" Cersei asks.

Her question is not a hostile one. She just seems curious. He barely hesitates before answering, as if talking about it was the most natural thing in the world.

"She accepted me in spite of my name, in spite of what our family had done to hers, in spite of my appearance. She never treated me like a monster. She was tough but fair. She would tell me about freedom and a better world to build... I could have spent hours listening to her."

The words leave a bitter taste in his mouth - a taste of ashes.

"She betrayed me," he continues."She betrayed me and everything she believed in, everything she fought for. That woman who burned King's Landing... I don't know who she is, but she's not the woman I fell in love with."

He feels like he's in mourning.

(A love that's dying is like an infinite sadness.)

"I see," Cersei says, pensive.

She thinks for a few more moments.

"You said Jaime had forgotten me..."

Tyrion doesn't want to hurt her this time but there's no point in lying.

"Well... that's what I thought," he admits. "He seemed happy with Brienne."

"Did he love her?"

(She fears the answer, he knows she does.)

"I don't know... maybe. He never told me."

If he had known what Jaime was really thinking, maybe he'd be with them today. Cersei looks down in sorrow.

"I think he was very fond Brienne," he says."But Jaime loved you, Cersei. He loved you more than anything. Why else would he have come back to you knowing only death awaited him?"

He should have known. Cersei and Jaime. Jaime and Cersei. From the cradle to the grave - it was so obvious.

"Only a Lannister can love a Lannister," he says with a sigh."You said it yourself."

.

"Are you still planning to go back?"

Cersei can barely walk now. The baby will be here in just a few days. She needs to lean on him. They gaze out over the city from her bedroom balcony.

She shrugs.

"I don't know. I think so..."

They watch Stallor Nestaar chatting with two other magisters in the gardens.

"Give up the Throne, Cersei. You'll never get it back. You don't need it. _We_ don't need it."

She remains silent. He wonders if he'll ever be able to convince her.

"We can build something here," he says."Stallor Nestaar won't be able to keep us in a cage forever."

She laughs.

"This fool thinks he's so smart. He doesn't know that lions still have claws," he says."More seriously... Jaime died so that you could live. Don't ruin everything..."

(_Don't ruin everything like Daenerys did._)

"King's Landing is my home," she replies.

"A pile of stone and brick."

"Casterly Rock is my home. I... I wish I could go back one last time."

(Where she and Jaime were born, where they loved each other, perhaps the only place where she has been truly happy).

Tyrion sighs, nostalgic.

"We'll find another one."

He grabs her wrist.

"Please, Cersei. Give it up. We're alive. Nothing else matters. This doomed Throne has cost us far too much."

She turns away and he helps her walk over to her bed. She didn't answer.

.

"What are you thinking of?" Tyrion asks.

"Sansa Stark."

"Oh."

He thinks of her as well, the red-haired ice queen, the one who could have made his heart beat in other circumstances, in another life, the one who hates fire and dragons.

"I'm worried about her," he says.

He has no idea what is going on in the North, that frozen hell that Daenerys hates more than any other place in Westeros.

"I'm not," Cersei replies.

(He wonders what that strange glint in her eyes is, that glint that looks a little too much like respect.)

"She's a survivor."

(_Like me_, she doesn't say, but he can hear it all the same.)

.

"Tyrion?"

He opens his eyes. Cersei is shaking him hard.

"I've had a nightmare. Daenerys found us and she said she couldn't let a Lannister heir live before... before she strangled my baby with her own hands."

"It's all right. It was a nightmare, just a nightmare."

"She'll find us. You know she'll find us one day."

He wishes he could reassure her, but how could he? There's no point in denying it.

"I know."

"She'll kill it. She'll kill the three of us."

"No. I won't let her."

(The lion bows to no one.)

"I'll kill her myself if I have to."

(It is not Daenerys Stormborn he will kill. Daenerys Stormborn died a long time ago. Only the Mad Queen remains now.)

"Go back to sleep. Everything is all right."

(Everything will be all right. It has to be.)

.

Tyrion holds her hand when the time has come.

He thinks sadly that Jaime should have been in his place. He would have known what to say to reassure her, to encourage her, like when Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen were born. Tyrion lets her crush his fingers with apprehension. This goes on for a long time, so long that he ends up losing count of the hours. The terrifying thought that Cersei will meet the same fate as their mother and that it is her own Tyrion she is bringing into the world is creeping into his mind.

He can see that she's reluctant to scream and bites her lips until she bleeds.

"This is no time to be proud," he whispers to her."You can scream if you want. I promise I won't laugh..."

She gives him an angry look.

(He almost regrets saying that when her screams almost leave him deaf.)

"I can't do it... I can't do it... I can't..."

"Yes, you can. I know you can."

(_Please don't die. Please don't die. Don't leave me alone. I never want to be alone again._)

She's losing blood, a lot of blood. The healers that Stallor Nestaar sent for are looking grim.

"It'll be over soon," Tyrion encourages her."Just one more push, please. Think of Jaime. It'll be over soon."

He knows exactly what she's thinking.

_You will have three children. You will have three children. You'll have three children._

"Forget about this prophecy. Forget about it. It's almost over."

She screams one last time and then silence returns.

The baby is born.

It's screaming.

(He has never heard such a beautiful sound.)

He gently takes it in his arms.

"It's a girl," he says to Cersei as he gives her to her.

She wanted a son, he knows that. An heir to the Iron Throne. He looks for the slightest hint of disappointment on her tired face.

Cersei smiles, a real smile, a sincere smile, the smile she used to give to Jaime, Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen, the smile that would break his heart because it was never meant for him.

_She's alive. She's alive. She's fine. See, that prophecy was wrong. She's going to be fine._

He looks at the blond hair covering her skull.

_Only a Lannister can love a Lannister._

Beautiful things can come from the worst curses after all.

.

The baby has fallen asleep in her cradle. Cersei and Tyrion are watching her sleep silently. He feels like he's in a dream, a sweet illusion that is about to break and go up in smoke, like all the other illusions did.

(That won't happen. This dream won't burn away.)

"What are you going to name her?" he asks.

"I don't know. I was so sure it would be a boy..."

"Are you disappointed?"

She frowns and then her face splits into a smile, maybe because she thinks of Myrcella.

"No."

She glances at him.

"Do you have any ideas?" she asks in a hesitant voice.

(Of course he has an idea, another dream that was shattered at the exact moment he was born, a dream that even Cersei has forgotten, something that no one remembers but should never be forsaken).

"Joanna?" he says.

Their mother's name, the mother they never had, the one whose absence has torn them apart, a faceless ghost, a hole in their hearts. Cersei stares at him for long seconds, and then something looking like a miracle happens, she gives him a smile, a real smile, the one that only Jaime and his children could see.

"Joanna," she repeats.

(Joanna tore them apart. He hopes she'll bring them together this time).

Jaime's ghost appears in the room, leans over the cradle, moved, and then turns to them.

He's smiling.

He looks at them for a long time, nods, and then waves goodbye to them before fading away.

(Tyrion knows this is probably the last time they'll ever see him, but it doesn't matter. Jaime will live in the sky and the sun and the waves, in their dreams and their words, in Joanna's golden hair and her green eyes).

"I like Pentos," Cersei finally says.

He lets the silence linger, thinks of what she has just said. He nods.

"Me too. Me too."

He remembers something Daenerys used to say in her many moments of doubt.

(_If I look back, I am lost._)

"Let's not look back. We can never forget the past, but perhaps we can break free from it."

The future sounds like Joanna's laughter, the questions she will ask them, the stories they will tell her, the future is not like fire and ice, the future doesn't know the game of thrones.

"Perhaps," Cersei replies. "Perhaps..."

.

Tyrion is trembling. He's had a nightmare, feels cold inside. Cersei touches his arm with her warm hand.

"Daenerys?" she asks.

"No. Not this time."

He calms down, pensive.

"Cersei?"

"Yes?"

"When I begged you outside the city walls... why didn't you kill me? You could have, but you didn't. Why?"

Silence.

She sighs.

"You know why."

(The worst lies are the ones you whisper to yourself.)

She lets him wrap his arms around her waist. He closes his eyes and imagines that it is Mother who's comforting him. The illusion goes away, of course. He no longer has a mother.

He has a sister. She has a brother.

It's not what they wanted, but it's what they have.

And they're not alone, not any more.

Maybe nothing else matters.

* * *

The next part will follow what happened in King's Landing while Cersei and Tyrion were in Pentos and will take the story further in time, so I promise that this isn't the last time we see these siblings.

I hope that you enjoyed this first part, I'd be glad to read your opinion!


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